For answer the man waved a small brown-paper parcel triumphantlyabove his head.
“You can give me the glad hand to-night, mister,” he cried. “I’mbringing home the bacon at last.”
“The signals?”
“Same as I said in my cable. Every last one of them, semaphore,lamp code, Marconi—a copy, mind you, not the original. That wastoo dangerous. But it’s the real goods, and you can lay to that.” Heslapped the German upon the shoulder with a rough familiarityfrom which the other winced.
“Come in,” he said. “I’m all alone in the house. I was onlywaiting for this. Of course a copy is better than the original. Ifan original were missing they would change the whole thing. Youthink it’s all safe about the copy?”
The Irish-American had entered the study and stretched hislong limbs from the armchair. He was a tall, gaunt man of sixty,with clear-cut features and a small goatee beard which gave hima general resemblance to the caricatures of Uncle Sam. A halfsmoked,sodden cigar hung from the corner of his mouth, andas he sat down he struck a match and relit it. “Making ready fora move?” he remarked as he looked round him. “Say, mister,” headded, as his eyes fell upon the safe from which the curtain wasnow removed, “you don’t tell me you keep your papers in that?”
“Why not?”
“Gosh, in a wide-open contraption like that! And they reckon youto be some spy. Why, a Yankee crook would be into that with a canopener.
If I’d known that any letter of mine was goin’ to lie loose ina thing like that I’d have been a mug to write to you at all.”
“It would puzzle any crook to force that safe,” Von Borkanswered. “You won’t cut that metal with any tool.”
“But the lock?”
“No, it’s a double combination lock. You know what that is?”
“Search me,” said the American.
“Well, you need a word as well as a set of figures before you canget the lock to work.” He rose and showed a double-radiating discround the keyhole. “This outer one is for the letters, the inner onefor the figures.”
“Well, well, that’s fine.”
“So it’s not quite as simple as you thought. It was four years agothat I had it made, and what do you think I chose for the wordand figures?”
“It’s beyond me.”
“Well, I chose August for the word, and 1914 for the figures, andhere we are.”
The American’s face showed his surprise and admiration.
“My, but that was smart! You had it down to a fine thing.”
“Yes, a few of us even then could have guessed the date. Here itis, and I’m shutting down to-morrow morning.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to fix me up also. I’m not staying is thisgol-darned country all on my lonesome. In a week or less, fromwhat I see, John Bull will be on his hind legs and fair ramping. I’drather watch him from over the water.”
“But you’re an American citizen?”
“Well, so was Jack James an American citizen, but he’s doingtime in Portland all the same. It cuts no ice with a British copperto tell him you’re an American citizen. ‘It’s British law and orderover here,’ says he. By the way, mister, talking of Jack James, itseems to me you don’t do much to cover your men.”
“What do you mean?” Von Bork asked sharply.
“Well, you are their employer, ain’t you? It’s up to you to see thatthey don’t fall down. But they do fall down, and when did you everpick them up? There’s James—”
“It was James’s own fault. You know that yourself. He was tooself-willed for the job.”
“James was a bonehead—I give you that. Then there was Hollis.”
“The man was mad.”
“Well, he went a bit woozy towards the end. It’s enough to makea man bughouse when he has to play a part from morning to nightwith a hundred guys all ready to set the coppers wise to him. Butnow there is Steiner—”
Von Bork started violently, and his ruddy face turned a shadepaler.
“What about Steiner?”
“Well, they’ve got him, that’s all. They raided his store last night,and he and his papers are all in Portsmouth jail. You’ll go off and he,poor devil, will have to stand the racket, and lucky if he gets off withhis life. That’s why I want to get over the water as soon as you do.”
Von Bork was a strong, self-contained man, but it was easy tosee that the news had shaken him.
“How could they have got on to Steiner?” he muttered. “That’sthe worst blow yet.”
“Well, you nearly had a worse one, for I believe they are not faroff me.”
“You don’t mean that!”
“Sure thing. My landlady down Fratton way had some inquiries,and when I heard of it I guessed it was time for me to hustle.
But what I want to know, mister, is how the coppers know thesethings? Steiner is the fifth man you’ve lost since I signed on withyou, and I know the name of the sixth if I don’t get a move on.
How do you explain it, and ain’t you ashamed to see your men godown like this?”
Von Bork flushed crimson.
“How dare you speak in such a way!”
“If I didn’t dare things, mister, I wouldn’t be in your service. ButI’ll tell you straight what is in my mind. I’ve heard that with youGerman politicians when an agent has done his work you are notsorry to see him put away.”
Von Bork sprang to his feet.
“Do you dare to suggest that I have given away my own agents!”
“I don’t stand for that, mister, but there’s a stool pigeon or a crosssomewhere, and it’s up to you to find out where it is. Anyhow I amtaking no more chances. It’s me for little Holland, and the soonerthe better.”
Von Bork had mastered his anger.
“We have been allies too long to quarrel now at the very hour ofvictory,” he said. “You’ve done splendid work and taken risks, andI can’t forget it. By all means go to Holland, and you can get a boatfrom Rotterdam to New York. No other line will be safe a weekfrom now. I’ll take that book and pack it with the rest.”
The American held the small parcel in his hand, but made nomotion to give it up.
“What about the dough?” he asked.
“The what?”
“The boodle. The reward. The ￡500. The gunner turned damnednasty at the last, and I had to square him with an extra hundreddollars or it would have been nitsky for you and me. ‘Nothin’ doin’ !’
says he, and he meant it, too, but the last hundred did it. It’s costme two hundred pound from first to last, so it isn’t likely I’d give itup without gettin’ my wad.”