"Just a moment, please," Mr. Grimm interposed quickly. "Miss Thorne, is
that the compact?"
She glanced at it, nodded her head, and then the flame caught the
fringed edge of paper. It crackled, flashed, flamed, and at last, a
thing of ashes, was scattered on the floor. Mr. Grimm rose.
"That is all, gentlemen," he announced courteously. "You are free to go.
You, your Highness, and Miss Thorne, will accompany me."
He held open the door and there was almost a scramble to get out. The
prince and Miss Thorne waited until the last.
"And, Miss Thorne, if you will give us a lift in your car?" Mr. Grimm
suggested. "It is now four minutes of three."
The automobile came in answer to a signal and the three in silence
entered it. The car trembled and had just begun to move when Mr. Grimm
remembered something, and leaped out.
"Wait for me!" he called. "There's a man locked in the coal-bin!"
He disappeared into the house, and Miss Thorne, with a gasp of horror
sank back in her seat with face like chalk. The prince glanced uneasily
at his watch, then spoke curtly to the chauffeur.
"Run the car up out of danger; there'll be an explosion there in a
moment."
They had gone perhaps a hundred feet when the building they had just
left seemed to be lifted bodily from the ground by a great spurt of
flame which tore through its center, then collapsed like a thing of
cards. The prince, unmoved, glanced around at Miss Thorne; she lay in a
dead faint beside him.
"Go ahead," he commanded. "Baltimore."
XXIV
THE PERSONAL EQUATION
Mr. Campbell ceased talking and the deep earnestness that had settled on
his face passed, leaving instead the blank, inscrutable mask of
benevolence behind which his clock-like genius was habitually hidden.
The choleric blue eyes of the president of the United States shifted
inquiringly to the thoughtful countenance of the secretary of state at
his right, thence along the table around which the official family was
gathered. It was a special meeting of the cabinet called at the
suggestion of Chief Campbell, and for more than an hour he had done the
talking. There had been no interruption.
"So much!" he concluded, at last. "If there is any point I have not made
clear Mr. Grimm is here to explain it in person."
Mr. Grimm rose at the mention of his name and stood with his hands
clasped behind his back. His eyes met those of the chief executive
listlessly.
"We understand, Mr. Grimm," the president began, and he paused for an
instant to regard the tall, clean-cut young man with a certain
admiration, "we understand that there does not actually exist such a
thing as a Latin compact against the English-speaking peoples?"
"On paper, no," was the reply.
"You personally prevented the signing of the compact?"
"I personally caused the destruction of the compact after several
signatures had been attached," Mr. Grimm amended. "Throughout I have
acted under the direction of Mr. Campbell, of course."
"You were in very grave personal danger?" the president went on.
"It was of no consequence," said Mr. Grimm simply.
The president glanced at Mr. Campbell and the chief shrugged his
shoulders.
"You are certain, Mr. Grimm," and the president spoke with great
deliberation, "you are certain that the representatives of the Latin
countries have not met since and signed the compact?"
"I am not certain--no," replied Mr. Grimm promptly. "I am certain,
however, that the backbone of the alliance was broken--its only excuse
for existence destroyed--when they permitted me to learn of the wireless
percussion cap which would have placed the navies of the world at their
mercy. Believe me, gentlemen, if they had kept their secret it would
have given them dominion of the earth. They made one mistake," he added
in a most matter-of-fact tone. "They should have killed me; it was their
only chance."
The president seemed a little startled at the suggestion.
"That would have been murder," he remarked.
"True," Mr. Grimm acquiesced, "but it seems an absurd thing that they
should have permitted the life of one man to stand between them and the
world power for which they had so long planned and schemed. His
Highness, Prince Benedetto d'Abruzzi believed as I do, and so expressed
himself." He paused a moment; there was a hint of surprise in his
manner. "I expected to be killed, of course. It seemed to me the only
thing that could happen."
"They must have known of the far-reaching consequences which would
follow upon your escape, Mr. Grimm. Why _didn't_ they kill you?"
Mr. Grimm made a little gesture with both hands and was silent.
"May they not yet attempt it?" the president insisted.
"It's too late now," Mr. Grimm explained. "They had everything to gain
by killing me there as I stood in the room where I had interrupted the
signing of the compact, because that would have been before I had placed
the facts in the hands of my government. I was the only person outside
of their circle who knew all of them. Only the basest motive could
inspire them to attempt my life now."
There was a pause. The secretary of state glanced from Mr. Grimm to Mr.
Campbell with a question in his deep-set eyes.
"Do I understand that you placed a Miss Thorne and the prince
under--that is, you detained them?" he queried. "If so, where are they
now?"
"I don't know," was the reply. "Just before the explosion the three of
us entered an automobile together, and then as we were starting away I
remembered something which made it necessary for me to reenter the
house. When I came out again, just a few seconds before the explosion,
the prince and Miss Thorne had gone."
The secretary's lips curled down in disapproval.
"Wasn't it rather unusual, to put it mildly, to leave your prisoners to
their own devices that way?" he asked.
"Well, yes," Mr. Grimm admitted. "But the circumstances were unusual.
When I entered the house I had locked a man in the cellar. I had to go
back to save his life, otherwise--"
"Oh, the guard at the door, you mean?" came the interruption. "Who was
it?"
Mr. Grimm glanced at his chief, who nodded.
"It was Mr. Charles Winthrop Rankin of the German embassy," said the
young man.
"Mr. Rankin of the German embassy was on guard at the door?" demanded
the president quickly.
"Yes. We got out safely."
"And that means that Germany was--!"
The president paused and startled glances passed around the table. After
a moment of deep abstraction the secretary went on:
"So Miss Thorne and the prince escaped. Are they still in this country?"
"That I don't know," replied Mr. Grimm. He stood silent a moment,
staring at the president. Some subtle change crept into the listless
eyes, and his lips were set. "Perhaps I had better explain here that the
personal equation enters largely into an affair of this kind," he said
at last, slowly. "It happens that it entered into this. Unless I am
ordered to pursue the matter further I think it would be best for all
concerned to accept the fact of Miss Thorne's escape, and--" He stopped.
There was a long, thoughtful silence. Every man in the room was studying
Mr. Grimm's impassive face.
"Personal equation," mused the president. "Just how, Mr. Grimm, does the
personal equation enter into the affair?"
The young man's lips closed tightly, and then:
"There are some people, Mr. President, whom we meet frankly as enemies,
and we deal with them accordingly; and there are others who oppose us
and yet are not enemies. It is merely that our paths of duty cross. We
may have the greatest respect for them and they for us, but purposes are
unalterably different. In other words there is a personal enmity and a
political enmity. You, for instance, might be a close personal friend of
the man whom you defeated for president. There might"--he stopped
suddenly.
"Go on," urged the president.
"I think every man meets once in his life an individual with whom he
would like to reckon personally," the young man continued. "That
reckoning may not be a severe one; it may be less severe than the law
would provide; but it would be a personal reckoning. There is one
individual in this affair with whom I should like to reckon, hence the
personal equation enters very largely into the case."
For a little while the silence of the room was unbroken, save for the
steady tick-tock of a great clock in one corner. Mr. Grimm's eyes were
fixed unwaveringly upon those of the chief executive. At last the
secretary of war crumpled a sheet of paper impatiently and hitched his
chair up to the table.
"Coming down to the facts it's like this, isn't it?" he demanded
briskly. "The Latin countries, by an invention of their own which the
United States and England were to be duped into purchasing, would have
had power to explode every submarine mine before attacking a port? Very
well. This thing, of course, would have given them the freedom of the
seas as long as we were unable to explode their submarines as they were
able to explode ours. And this is the condition which made the Latin
compact possible, isn't it?"
He looked straight at Mr. Grimm, who nodded.
"Therefore," he went on, "if the Latin compact is not a reality on
paper; if the United States and England do not purchase this--this
wireless percussion cap, we are right back where we were before it all
happened, aren't we? Every possible danger from that direction has
passed, hasn't it? The world-war of which we have been talking is
rendered impossible, isn't it?"
"That's a question," answered Mr. Grimm. "If you will pardon me for
suggesting it, I would venture to say that as long as there is an
invention of that importance in the hands of nations whom we now know
have been conspiring against us for fifty years, there is always danger.
It seems to me, if you will pardon me again, that for the sake of peace
we must either get complete control of that invention or else understand
it so well that there can be no further danger. And again, please let me
call your attention to the fact that the brain which brought this thing
into existence is still to be reckoned with. There may, some day, come a
time when our submarines may be exploded at will regardless of this
percussion cap."
The secretary of war turned flatly upon Chief Campbell.
"This woman who is mixed up in this affair?" he demanded. "This Miss
Thorne. Who is she?"
"Who is she?" repeated the chief. "She's a secret agent of Italy, one of
the most brilliant, perhaps, that has ever operated in this or any other
country. She is the pivot around which the intrigue moved. We know her
by a dozen names; any one of them may be correct."
The brows of the secretary of war were drawn down in thought as he
turned to the president.
"Mr. Grimm was speaking of the personal equation," he remarked
pointedly. "I think perhaps his meaning is clear when we know there is a
woman in the case. We know that Mr. Grimm has done his duty to the last
inch in this matter; we know that alone and unaided, practically, he has
done a thing that no living man of his relative position has ever done
before--prevented a world-war. But there is further danger--he himself
has called our attention to it--therefore, I would suggest that Mr.
Grimm be relieved of further duty in this particular case. This is not a
moment when the peace of the world may be imperiled by personal feelings
of--of kindliness for an individual."
Mr. Grimm received the blow without a tremor. His hands were still idly
clasped behind his back; the eyes fastened upon the president's face
were still listless; the mouth absolutely without expression.
"As Mr. Grimm has pointed out," the secretary went on, "we have been
negotiating for this wireless percussion cap. I have somewhere in my
office the name and address of the individual with whom these
negotiations have been conducted. Through that it is possible to reach
the inventor, and then--! I suggest that we vote our thanks to Mr. Grimm
and relieve him of this particular case."
The choleric eyes of the president softened a little, and grew grave as
they studied the impassive face of the young man.
"It's a strange situation, Mr. Grimm," he said evenly. "What do you say
to withdrawing?"
"I am at your orders, Mr. President," was the reply.
"No one knows better what you have done than the gentlemen here at this
table," the president went on slowly. "No one questions that you have
done more than any other man could have done under the circumstances. We
understand, I think, that indirectly you are asking immunity for an
individual. I don't happen to know the liability of that individual
under our law, but we can't make any mistake now, Mr. Grimm, and so--and
so--" He stopped and was silent.
"I had hoped, Mr. President, that what I have done so far--and I don't
underestimate it--would have, at least, earned for me the privilege of
remaining in this case until its conclusion," said Mr. Grimm steadily.
"If it is to be otherwise, of course I am at--"
"History tells us, Mr. Grimm," interrupted the president irrelevantly,
"that the frou-frou of a woman's skirt has changed the map of the world.
Do you believe," he went on suddenly, "that a man can mete out justice
fairly, severely if necessary, to one for whom he has a personal
regard?"
"I do, sir."
"Perhaps even to one--to a woman whom he might love?"
"I do, sir."
The president rose.
"Please wait in the anteroom for a few minutes," he directed.
Mr. Grimm bowed himself out. At the end of half an hour he was again
summoned into the cabinet chamber. The president met him with
outstretched hand. There was more than mere perfunctory thanks in
this--there was the understanding of man and man.
"You will proceed with the case to the end, Mr. Grimm," he instructed
abruptly. "If you need assistance ask for it; if not, proceed alone.
You will rely upon your own judgment entirely. If there are
circumstances which make it inadvisable to move against an individual by
legal process, even if that individual is amenable to our laws, you are
not constrained so to do if your judgment is against it. There is one
stipulation: You will either secure the complete rights of the wireless
percussion cap to this government or learn the secret of the invention
so that at no future time can we be endangered by it."
"Thank you," said Mr. Grimm quietly. "I understand."
"I may add that it is a matter of deep regret to me," and the president
brought one vigorous hand down on the young man's shoulder, "that our
government has so few men of your type in its service. Good day."
XXV
WE TWO
Mr. Grimm turned from Pennsylvania Avenue into a cross street, walked
along half a block or so, climbed a short flight of stairs and entered
an office.
"Is Mr. Howard in?" he queried of a boy in attendance.
"Name, please."
Mr. Grimm handed over a sealed envelope which bore the official imprint
of the Department of War in the upper left hand corner; and the boy
disappeared into a room beyond. A moment later he emerged and held open
the door for Mr. Grimm. A gentleman--Mr. Howard--rose from his seat and
stared at him as he entered.
"This note, Mr. Grimm, is surprising," he remarked.
"It is only a request from the secretary of war that I be permitted to
meet the inventor of the wireless percussion cap," Mr. Grimm explained
carelessly. "The negotiations have reached a point where the War
Department must have one or two questions answered directly by the
inventor. Simple enough, you see."
"But it has been understood, and I have personally impressed it upon the
secretary of war that such a meeting is impossible," objected Mr.
Howard. "All negotiations have been conducted through me, and I have, as
attorney for the inventor, the right to answer any question that may
properly be answered. This now is a request for a personal interview
with the inventor."
"The necessity for such an interview has risen unexpectedly, because of
a pressing need of either closing the deal or allowing it to drop," Mr.
Grimm stated. "I may add that the success of the deal depends entirely
on this interview."
Mr. Howard was leaning forward in his chair with wrinkled brow intently
studying the calm face of the young man. Innocent himself of all the
intrigue and international chicanery back of the affair, representing
only an individual in these secret negotiations, he saw in the
statement, as Mr. Grimm intended that he should, the possible climax of
a great business contract. His greed was aroused; it might mean hundreds
of thousands of dollars to him.
"Do you think the deal can be made?" he asked at last.
"I have no doubt there will be some sort of a deal," replied Mr. Grimm.
"As I say, however, it is absolutely dependent on an interview between
the inventor and myself at once--this afternoon."
Mr. Howard thoughtfully drummed on his desk for a little while. From the
first, save in so far as the patent rights were concerned, he had seen
no reasons for the obligations of utter secrecy which had been enforced
upon him. Perhaps, if he laid it before the inventor in this new light,
with the deal practically closed, the interview would be possible!
"I have no choice in the matter, Mr. Grimm," he said at last. "I shall
have to put it to my client, of course. Can you give me, say, half an
hour to communicate with him?"
"Certainly," and Mr. Grimm rose obligingly. "Shall I wait outside here
or call again?"
"You may wait if you don't mind," said Mr. Howard. "I'll be able to let
you know in a few minutes, I hope."
Mr. Grimm bowed and passed out. At the end of twenty-five minutes the
door of Mr. Howard's private office opened and he appeared. His face was
violently red, evidently from anger, and perspiration stood on his
forehead.
"I can't do anything with him," he declared savagely. "He says simply
that negotiations must be conducted through me or not at all."
Mr. Grimm had risen; he bowed courteously.
"Very well," he said placidly. "You understand, of course, as the note
says, that this refusal of his terminates the negotiations, so--"
"But just a moment--" interposed Mr. Howard quickly.
"Good day," said Mr. Grimm.
The door opened and closed; he was gone. Three minutes later he stepped
into a telephone booth at a near-by corner and took down the receiver.
"Hello, central!" he called, and then: "This is Mr. Grimm of the Secret
Service. What number was Mr. Howard talking to?"
"Eleven double-nought six, Alexandria," was the reply.
"Where is the connection? In whose name?"
"The connection is five miles out from Alexandria in a farm-house on the
old Baltimore Road," came the crisp, business-like answer. "The name is
Murdock Williams."
"Thank you," said Mr. Grimm. "Good-by."
A moment later he was standing by the curb waiting for a car, when
Howard, still angry, and with an expression of deep chagrin on his
face, came bustling up.
"If you can give me until to-morrow afternoon, then--" he began.
Mr. Grimm glanced around at him, and with a slight motion of his head
summoned two men who had been chatting near-by. One of them was Blair,
and the other Hastings.
"Take this man in charge," he directed. "Hold him in solitary
confinement until you hear from me. Don't talk to him, don't let any one
else talk to him, and don't let him talk. If any person speaks to him
before he is locked up, take that person in charge also. He is guilty of
no crime, but a single word from him now will endanger my life."
That was all. It was said and done so quickly that Howard, dazed,
confused and utterly unable to account for anything, was led away
without a protest. Mr. Grimm, musing gently on the stupidity of mankind
in general and the ease with which it is possible to lead even a clever
individual into a trap, if the bait appeals to greed, took a car and
went up town.
Some three hours later he walked briskly along a narrow path strewn with
pine needles, which led tortuously up to an old colonial farmhouse.
Outwardly the place seemed to be deserted. The blinds, battered and
stripped of paint by wind and rain, were all closed and one corner of
the small veranda had crumbled away from age and neglect. In the rear of
the house, rising from an old barn, a thin pole with a cup-like
attachment at the apex, thrust its point into the open above the dense,
odorous pines. Mr. Grimm noted these things as he came along.
He stepped up quietly on the veranda and had just extended one hand to
rap on the door when it was opened from within, and Miss Thorne stood
before him. He was not surprised; intuition had told him he would meet
her again, perhaps here in hiding. A sudden quick tenderness lighted the
listless eyes. For an instant she stood staring, her face pallid against
the gloom of the hallway beyond, and she drew a long breath of relief,
as she pressed one hand to her breast. The blue-gray eyes were veiled by
drooping lids, then she recovered herself and they opened into his. In
them he saw anxiety, apprehension, fear even.
"Miss Thorne!" he greeted, and he bowed low over the white hand which
she impulsively thrust toward him.
"I--I knew some one was coming," she stammered in a half whisper. "I
didn't know it was you; I hadn't known definitely until this instant
that you were safe from the explosion. I am glad--glad, you understand;
glad that you were not--" She stopped and fought back her emotions, then
went on: "But you must not come in; you must go away at once. Your--your
life is in danger here."
"_How_ did you know I was coming?" inquired Mr. Grimm.
"From the moment Mr. Howard telephoned," she replied, still hastily,
still in the mysterious half whisper. "I knew that it could only be
some one from your bureau, and I hoped that it was you. I saw how you
forced him to call us up here, and that was all you needed. It was
simple, of course, to trace the telephone call." Both of her hands
closed over one of his desperately. "Now, go, please. The Latin compact
is at an end; you merely invite death here. Now, go!"
Her eyes were searching the listless face with entreaty in them; the
slender fingers were fiercely gripping one of Mr. Grimm's nerveless
hands. For an instant some strange, softening light flickered in the
young man's eyes, then it passed.
"I have no choice, Miss Thorne," he said gravely at last. "I am honor
bound by my government to do one of two things. If I fail in the first
of those--the greater--it can only be because--"
He stopped; hope flamed up in her eyes and she leaned forward eagerly
studying the impassive face.
"Because--?" she repeated.
"It can only be because I am killed," he added quietly. Suddenly his
whole manner changed. "I should like to see the--the inventor?"
"But don't you see--don't you see you _will_ be killed if--?" she began
tensely.
"May I see the inventor, please?" Mr. Grimm interrupted.
For a little time she stood, white and rigid, staring at him. Then her
lids fluttered down wearily, as if to veil some crushing agony within
her, and she stepped aside. Mr. Grimm entered and the door closed
noiselessly behind him. After a moment her hand rested lightly on his
arm, and he was led into a room to his left. This door, too, she closed,
immediately turning to face him.
"We may talk here a few minutes without interruption," she said in a low
tone. Her voice was quite calm now. "If you will be--?"
"Please understand, Miss Thorne," he interposed mercilessly, "that I
must see the inventor, whoever he is. What assurance have I that this
is not some ruse to permit him to escape?"
"You have my word of honor," she said quite simply.
"Please go on." He sat down.
"You will see him too soon, I fear," she continued slowly. "If you had
not come to him he would have gone to you." She swayed a little and
pressed one hand to her eyes. "I would to God it were in my power to
prevent that meeting!" she exclaimed desperately. Then, with an effort:
"There are some things I want to explain to you. It may be that you will
be willing to go then of your own free will. If I lay bare to you every
step I have taken since I have been in Washington; if I make clear to
you every obscure point in this hideous intrigue; if I confess to you
that the Latin compact has been given up for all time, won't that be
enough? Won't you go then?"
Mr. Grimm's teeth closed with a snap.
"I don't want that--from you," he declared.
"But if I should tell it all to you?" she pleaded.