POWERS THAT PREY
Not far as the crow flies from the scene of the German airman's
catastrophe, but with its presence hidden from general knowledge, was
the Grosses Hauptquartier, the pulsing heart and brain of the Imperial
fighting forces. Vigilant sentries patrolled the park leading from the
chateau commandeered for the use of the War Lord and his entourage, to
the quarters of the Great General Staff. In a secluded room of the
latter building a dozen men sat in conference about a table littered
with papers; they had been there since early evening, but no man
permitted his glance to stray to the dial of a library clock whose hands
were gradually approaching two o'clock. Truly, the chiefs of the
divisions were tireless toilers.
The Herr Chief of the Great General Staff was emphasizing his remarks
with vigor unusual even for him, when the telephone, no respecter of
persons, sent out its tinkling call. Hitching his chair closer to the
table, the Herr Chief of the Aviation Corps removed the receiver from
the instrument. A courteous silence prevailed as he took the message.
Replacing the receiver, he turned and confronted his confrères.
"An outpost reports," he began formally, "that Captain von Eltz in his
Aviatik biplane was pursued and wrecked by a French airman who was
obliged to make a forced landing inside our lines. The French airmen were
shot in their attempt to escape. Owing to the Aviatik biplane catching in
the branches of a tree and thereby breaking his fall Captain von Eltz was
rescued alive, although desperately wounded. The observer who accompanied
him is dead. On regaining consciousness Captain von Eltz reported that
his mission was successful, the new ammunition depot having been
completely destroyed by his bomb."
A low hum of approval greeted his words. "Well done, gallant von Eltz!"
exclaimed one of the hearers. "He deserves the Iron Cross."
"He will receive it," declared another officer enthusiastically.
"The information as to the location of this new ammunition depot, which
von Eltz has just destroyed, came from the man of whom I have been
telling you tonight," broke in the Herr Chief of the Secret Service. "He
has been our eyes and ears in England. Gentlemen, is it your wish that he
be intrusted with the delicate mission of which we have just been
speaking?"
The eyes of the Herr Chief of the Great General Staff swept his
companions. "Is it that I speak for all?" A quick affirmative answered
him. "Then, we leave the matter entirely in your hands." The Herr Chief
of the Secret Service bowed. "You know your agents; the selection is left
to you, but see there is no unnecessary delay."
"There will be no delay," responded the Herr Chief of the Secret Service.
"My agent is not far from here. With your permission, I take my leave,"
and saluting he hastened from the room.
The sun was halfway in the heavens when a limousine drew up before a
wayside inn near a semi-demolished city. Before the orderly sitting by
the chauffeur could swing himself to the ground, a tall man had stepped
to the side of the car and opened the door. For a second the Herr Chief
of the Secret Service and the stranger contemplated each other without
speaking, then the former motioned to the vacant seat by his side.
"We can talk as we ride," he announced brusquely. "Your luggage--"
"Is here," thrusting a much labeled suitcase inside the limousine and
jumping in after it.
At a low-toned word from the Herr Chief of the Secret Service the orderly
saluted and quickly resumed his seat by the chauffeur. There was a short
silence inside the limousine as the powerful car continued up the road.
They were stopped at the first railroad crossing by a trainload of
wounded soldiers.
"Your pardon," and before the Herr Chief of the Secret Service could stop
him, the stranger pulled down the sash curtains of all the windows. "You
are well known; being recognized is the penalty of greatness. It is to my
interest to escape such a distinction."
"I approve your caution, Herr Captain," observed the older man. "Will you
smoke?" producing his cigarette case, and as the other smilingly helped
himself and accepted a lighted match, he surveyed him critically. Paying
no attention to his chief's scrutiny, the Secret Service agent
contemplated the luxurious appointments of the limousine with
satisfaction and puffed contentedly at his cigarette. His air of breeding
was unmistakable, but the devil-may-care sparkle in his gray-blue eyes
redeemed an otherwise expressionless face from being considered heavy.
The spirits of the Herr Chief of the Secret Service rose. His
recollection and judgment was still good; his agent, by men and women,
would be deemed extremely handsome.
"The new ammunition depot was destroyed last night by our airmen," he
said, with some abruptness. "Your information was reliable."
"Pardon, is not my information always reliable?" interpolated the Secret
Service agent.
"So it has proved," acknowledged his chief cordially, but a mark was
mentally registered against the Herr Captain. German bureaucracy does not
tolerate presumption from a subordinate. "And owing to your excellent
record, you have been selected for a most delicate mission."
"Under the same conditions?"
"The Imperial Government cannot be questioned," retorted his chief, his
anger rising.
"I am different from other operatives." A puff of cigarette smoke
wreathed upward from the speaker's lips. "A free-lance."
"And you have been given a free hand. We have not inquired into your
methods of procuring information, being content with the result."
"And does not the result justify not only your confidence but promotion?"
The Herr Chief of the Secret Service considered before replying; then he
answered with a question.
"Have you been to Ireland?"
The Secret Service agent smiled grimly as he took from his pocket a book
of cigarette papers. Counting them over, he selected the seventeenth
paper, and passed it to his companion, who examined the small blank sheet
with interest. "Just a moment," and the young man again slipped his hand
into a vest pocket, this time bringing out a nickel flashlight. Pressing
his thumb on the switch he held the glass bulb against the rice paper. In
a few minutes a faint tracing appeared on the blank page, which grew
brighter as the rays of light generated more heat.
"Hold it a moment," said the Herr Chief of the Secret Service. "Keep it
over the bulb," and taking out his notebook he made several entries, then
closed it with a snap.
"Finished?" As he asked the question, the Secret Service agent replaced
his pocket flashlight, drew out his tobacco pouch, poured a little in the
rice paper, and proceeded to roll the cigarette with practiced fingers.
"About Sheerness?" questioned the Herr Chief of the Secret Service.
"All is arranged."
"Good." The Herr Chief of the Secret Service permitted himself to settle
back more comfortably on the roomy seat so that he faced his companion.
In the closed and semi-darkened limousine there was no danger of their
conversation being overheard.
"I reserved for myself, Herr Captain," said the Herr Chief slowly, "the
pleasure of informing you that your valuable services to the Kaiser and
the Fatherland"--the Secret Service agent raised his hat--"are
recognized. The Cross may yet be yours."
"How can I express my gratitude?" stammered the Secret Service agent.
"By not jumping to hasty conclusions," smiled his chief. "Never again
question your orders."
"Be just," protested the Secret Service agent warmly. "I have risked my
life daily for the Kaiser and the Fatherland in a hostile country. There
have been hours which I do not care to remember." The speaker's tone grew
husky. "Some day--a short shift; and I must make provision for another."
"I understood you were not married?"
There was a barely perceptible pause. "Spies do not marry, sir."
"And if a Secret Service agent has a healthy regard for his own safety,
he is careful of serious entanglements," cautioned his chief. "However,
judging by your past work, I believe you are quite able to take care of
yourself. Thanks to the warnings and information of your organization we
have been able to meet some of the Allies' contemplated concerted
attacks, and your information as to the sailing of transports and the
movements of ammunition trains has been of inestimable service."
"Do you still wish me to keep up this particular work?"
"No." The Herr Chief of the Secret Service leaned forward in his
earnestness. "This war has demonstrated again and again that victory goes
with the heaviest artillery."
"True! Antwerp, one of the strongest fortified cities on the Continent,
crumpled up before our siege guns," broke in his companion.
The older man paid no attention to the interruption, but continued
gravely: "Hand to hand conflict and cavalry charges are a thing of the
past. We shell out the enemies' trenches from batteries six to twelve
miles away. All this you already know; I repeat it now to explain what I
am about to say. We are in possession of the mining district of France,
they are getting hard pushed for ammunition; England's supply is not
inexhaustible; Russia cannot half arm her fighting forces. They one and
all are appealing to the manufacturing capitalists of the United States
to furnish them with arms and ammunition."
"And with success," dryly.
The Herr Chief of the Secret Police frowned. "It must be stopped. You are
to go to America--"
"I?"
"Yes, at once. You have a genius for organization; your work in England
proved that. Let us know what merchant vessels and passenger steamers are
carrying munitions of war. Be sure, doubly sure, that your information is
correct, for we shall act upon it. Our Government stands ready to take
most drastic measures to stop such traffic."
"I see." The Secret Service agent stroked his clean-shaven chin in
meditative silence. "In England I went hand in hand with death; in the
United States I am likely to outlive my usefulness."
"Perhaps," with dry significance. "But recollect our Government is ready
to adopt _any_ expedient to stop the exporting of arms and ammunition to
our enemies."
"As for instance--?"
"Leave our methods to us; you have your work. You will make your
headquarters at Washington City. There you will be able to place your
hand on the pulse of the nation, and there you will find--idle women."
"Have we not already representatives at the United States capital?"
The Herr Chief of the Secret Service eyed him keenly. "Our embassy is
concerned only with the diplomatic world. You are to send us word whether
the United States Government arsenals are working under a full complement
of men; of the orders placed by the Navy Department for submarines, and
the activities obtaining in private munition plants. Be certain and study
the undercurrent of sentiment for or against us. Report as you have
heretofore."
"How am I to get in touch with the private shipyards and munition
plants?"
"I will give you letters to residents loyal to their Fatherland. A number
of the owners of powder companies and munition plants usually winter in
Washington. I am also told that Mexican juntas still make Washington
their headquarters." The eyes of the Secret Service agent were boring
into him, but the older man's countenance remained a mask. "You must bear
in mind that if the American capitalists persist in selling assistance to
our enemies the attention of the United States must be diverted to other
issues...."
"Such a plan could only be carried out by creating a necessity of
home consumption for war munitions," supplemented the Secret Service
agent softly.
Without replying the Herr Chief of the Secret Service pulled forward a
small despatch-box from a cleverly concealed pocket in the upholstery of
the limousine.
"We are motoring to your nearest destination," he said soberly,
opening the box. "Here are your letters of credit, your passport, and
introductions to our friends across the water," handing him a leather
wallet. "They will see that you are properly introduced to Washington
hostesses. Go out in society; I am told it is most delightful at the
Capital. Make friends with influential public men and prominent
Washingtonians. Above all," with emphasis, "cultivate the gentler
sex; remember, idle women make excellent pawns, my dear Herr Captain
von Mueller."