A SCENT
George Senf was leonine. Aroused suddenly from his bed, the disorder of
his long white hair and beard gave him a singularly wild and ferocious
aspect. But he got out a long-stemmed pipe and after lighting it,
settled down with a steady eye to listen to the story that Liederman and
Rowland told him. He heard them through to the end, putting in keen
questions or incisive remarks here and there which did much to reassure
Rowland that their case was in capable hands. This was a leader of men,
a thinker and a man of action, and his comprehension of all aspects of
the situation and the definite manner of his decisions, left no room to
doubt that he believed a crisis to be impending between the forces he
represented and the powers of the government which stood behind
Khodkine. When Liederman and Rowland had finished he sat for a long
while on his bed smoking, his brows frowning, staring at the opposite
wall. At last he waved them away.
"Go," he said shortly. "You will need your sleep. My work begins
now--at once. Tomorrow we will have a report from Fraulein Korasov. We
need her. The meeting of the Committee is tomorrow night. Come here
when you have slept and we will plan further. Good night."
And so the two men returned to the Russischer Hof and found the sleep of
which they were both much in need. But it was with some mental
reservations that Rowland went to bed, for he had vowed that until Tanya
was found he would never rest in peace. He had seen something of the
double nature of this Gregory Hochwald, and the possible dangers to
which she might be subjected filled him constantly with vague alarms.
But he realized that he must rest to be effective upon the morrow. If
his conscience troubled him, he had no chance to be aware of it, for he
was sound asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
Liederman was hammering upon the door of the adjoining room which he
occupied before Rowland awoke and sat up in his bed, blinking at the
light of broad day, and after a hurried bath and breakfast they called
upon Zoya Rochal and hastened to the house of Georg Senf.
They found the Socialist leader in his bedroom, which was blue with the
tobacco smoke of a secret conference of several men, three of them
leaders, as Rowland afterward discovered, in labor organizations allied
to the Socialist-Democratic and Socialist-Revolutionary parties. As the
new comers entered there was a silence except for the words of greeting
of Georg Senf and they all rose and made place. One of them wore a
workman's blouse, and the others were shabbily dressed but in all three
Rowland noted the same characteristics--the broad brows of intelligence,
the firm lips of resolution, the clear penetrating gaze of men
accustomed to think for themselves.
"This is Herr Rowland," said Georg Senf briefly, "the new President of
the Order of Nemi, who has come from Switzerland on this sudden
mission."
The men bowed and shook the hand of the American gravely.
"You will not find Munich lacking in ardor, Herr Rowland. Our followers
are many and we are strong," said one, named Conrad Weiss, who was chief
telegrapher of the Munich Post Office.
"You will need to be strong," said Rowland, "for there is every sign
that a test of your power is coming soon."
"We are ready for it, Herr Rowland," rumbled the deep bass of Herr
Hoffner, who wore the blouse, "and the people of Bavaria are behind us.
They are sick--war weary. And the time has come."
"Have you arms--ammunition?" asked Rowland pointedly.
The question seemed to have probed deep below the surface, for no one
replied at once. And then spoke Herr Yaeger, a smallish man with long
hair and the dark eyes of a dreamer.
"Arms--ammunition. Yes, perhaps--here and there. But arms are
_verboten_. It is necessary that we move with caution. Nor do we wish
to win with arms or ammunition, Herr Rowland. Stronger
weapons,--poverty, hunger, the rights of one man as against another.
They will triumph in the end."
Rowland assumed an air of dignity he was far from feeling, for deep in
his heart he realized as these men did not that strong as their
organization was, or firm its affiliations, the time would be long in
coming for any nation which so feared the _verboten_ sign. He was sorry
for them, but he dared not tell them so. He had that maddening
inclination to laugh which came to him sometimes upon the most sober
occasions, but he bowed his head deeply, saying nothing, which as every
one knows--is the part of wisdom.
In this he added to the respect with which they held his office and when
Georg Senf drew the meeting to a close, offered him all the help that
was in their power to find the money that had been taken.
"That is well," finished Senf, "you will carry out your instructions.
You, Herr Weiss, to the telegraph office and summon all leaders for
tonight by the harmless code of initials. The meeting is at ten. So
lose no time. You, Herr Yaeger, to your factory. You, Herr Hoffner,
will keep in readiness for a further call. Herr Berghof will please
remain."
Now for the first time Rowland noted a figure in the corner of the room,
who rose as the others went out and came forward at a sign from Herr
Senf and was presented to the new arrivals.
Georg Senf, relighting his long-stemmed pipe, paced the floor before the
fire place.
"I have been busy, my friends, while you have slept," he said. "This
matter of the money brooks no delay. In ten minutes after you left this
house last night I had made my plans. Our comrades live all about me
here and by daylight our different leaders had been notified. By
breakfast time thousands of members of our organizations were combing
the city in all directions. Every hotel, every pension--An hour ago we
met with some success----"
"You've found her----?" broke in Rowland eagerly.
"Only to lose her again." As Rowland sprang up Senf raised his hand.
"One moment. It was through no fault of our own--or of Herr Berghof's
here, who could not of course have known that Fraeulein Korasov's
interests and mine were identical."
Herr Berghof, a thin, ferret-like person, smiled and squinted as Rowland
glared at him.
"You saw her, Herr Berghof----?"
But Georg Senf broke in again with maddening, methodical Teuton
insistence.
"All things in order, Herr Rowland," he said calmly. "A little patience
and you shall know all. Herr Berghof is a Social Democrat, but not a
member of the Order of Nemi. He has been brought here by Herr Weiss a
while ago, somewhat against his will, but he has replied to our
questions, upon the condition that the matter is kept secret! Will you
relate what happened last night, Herr Berghof?"
The little man cleared his throat, squinted and nodded politely.
"I am a stranger in Munich, a Swiss, from Basle, but I have much
interest in the Socialist cause. Democracy is very near my heart and if
I can help----"
He glanced at Rowland, who had risen, his patience nearly exhausted.
"You will please proceed directly to the matter in hand," said Senf
placidly. "Fraeulein Korasov came to the Bayrischer Hof last
night----?"
Zoya Rochal shot a triumphant glance at Rowland but his gaze was fixed
on Berghof.
"Yes, Herr Senf," the man replied, "I am connected with the management
of the hotel. At about eleven, with a gentleman who called himself Herr
Hochwald----"
"Hochwald!" muttered Rowland in surprise.
"That was the name--the name also given by the gentleman awaiting him in
the south drawing room--who said he was expecting his arrival."
"Ah, I see."
"Fraeulein Korasov was taken at once to a room, number two hundred and
twenty-one, upon the second floor. She carried a large suit-case. I
myself conducted Herr Hochwald to the south drawing room where a visitor
was awaiting him. They sat conversing at once in a low tone of voice.
As I was not wanted I gave Herr Hochwald the key to his room which was
upon the third floor of the hotel, at some distance from that occupied
by Fraeulein Korasov."
"I see. And then?"
"And then? Nothing. I went to sleep. I was very tired. You must
understand, Herr Senf, we are very lacking in service at the hotel and
upon the day before I had been on duty----"
"Proceed, Herr Berghof," growled Liederman. "At what time did you see
Herr Hochwald again?"
"Oh, yes. It must, have been at least an hour or more later. Herr
Hochwald, accompanied by Herr Foerster, the man who had met him in the
south drawing room, came running down the stairs and awoke me, swearing
in a manner such as I have thought was only practiced by officers in the
army, and demanding to be let at once into room number two hundred and
twenty-one. The proceeding was most unusual, especially as Herr Hochwald
had been so particular in ordering that Fraeulein Korasov was not to be
disturbed by anyone. They had knocked upon her door, they said, but had
not been able to get a reply and feared that something had happened to
the lady. So I procured my ring of pass keys, and followed them up the
stairs. The matter was delicate and one which might have involved me in
much difficulty with the proprietor of the hotel, but when I hesitated
Herr Hochwald raved and swore again, knocking so that others nearby
might easily have been awakened, and then, thinking that perhaps
something might really have happened to the Fraeulein, I found the
proper key and opened the door."
The clerk paused to get his breath and Liederman swore softly.
"The Fraeulein was sitting upon the edge of the bed, fully dressed," he
went on, "as though aroused from a sleep of utter exhaustion. But she
gained her dignity and self-possession almost at once and quite
naturally, demanded the meaning of the intrusion."
"'The suit-case,' cried Herr Hochwald. 'You have the suit-case here?'"
"Fraeulein Korasov looked a little bewildered. 'The suitcase? Yes, I
have my suit-case here. But what----?'"
"At that moment Herr Foerster espied the bag of Fraulein Korasov upon a
table and running across the room fell upon it eagerly, and opened it.
There was nothing in it but a few pieces of linen. And Hochwald let
forth another of his mad cries."
"'The money,' he said. 'What have you done with the money?'"
"The Fraeulein had now risen and stood, very pale and angry."
"'I don't understand you,' she said quietly. 'The money? What should I
know about the money?'"
"Herr Hochwald stood a moment, his face working, trying to compose
himself. And then turning to the officer who stood uncertainly, 'Search
the room,' he ordered, 'everywhere. It must be here.'"
"Fraeulein Korasov stood immovable. 'It is a pity, Herr Hochwald,' she
said coolly, 'that you have neither honor nor decency.'"
"'What have you done with it?' he went on, trying to keep his composure,
'tell me now, and all may yet be well.'"
"'I know nothing,' she replied."
"Herr Hochwald stared at her a moment and then, as though to himself.
'This is a grave matter. We shall take further steps.' And seeing me
standing beside the door, he seemed suddenly to realize that I had seen
and heard all that had happened, for he frowned and ordered me from the
room."
"'Go,' he muttered, 'and order a cab--at once. Fraeulein Korasov, you
will descend with me. Herr Foerster, you will stay, continue the search
and question the servants. You have full authority. It is
understood?'"
"'At your orders, Herr Hochwald,' said the other."
"That was all I heard, for I went below and ordered the cab, into which
Herr Hochwald and the Fraeulein entered and were driven away."
The man paused and there was a moment of silence, when a storm of
questions assailed him.
"The directions to the driver," cried Liederman.
"Herr Foerster found nothing?" asked Zoya Rochal.
"The servants were questioned?" demanded Senf.
"I did not hear the directions to the driver," said Berghof, with a
shifting glance at Rowland. "The man who conducted the Fraeulein to her
room could shed no light upon the matter."
"But you. Did Herr Foerster not question you?" asked Rowland keenly.
"Yes. He questioned this morning, and I answered him. It is not
healthy not to answer the questions of one in such authority."
There was another silence, baffled it seemed on the part of the
questioners. Herr Berghof took up his hat and rose. Rowland no longer
smiled. Liederman rocked to and fro from one foot to the other by the
mantel-shelf. Zoya Rochal nervously lighted a cigarette.
"One moment, Herr Berghof," said Rowland, whose mind had been tracing
the interstices of the puzzle in his own American way. "You say that
this Herr Foerster has questioned the servants of the hotel?"
Herr Berghof hesitated a moment.
"One or two only. What was the use? The Fraeulein had been there but
an hour or more."
"But you seem to forget that in that hour much happened," said Rowland.
"If that money was taken from the valise of Herr Hochwald, it was taken
before he reached the hotel, not afterward. If Fraeulein Korasov took
it--ah----" He paused a moment, then went on quickly, "She had a
valise, you say. Empty?"
Herr Berghof hesitated again and shot a quick glance over his shoulder
toward the closed door behind him. But Rowland had risen and now stood
beside it.
"You say the suit-case was empty?" repeated Rowland sternly.
Berghof swallowed uneasily.
"Except for one or two articles of apparel--yes."
"Then where did the other bag come from?" asked Rowland suddenly.
Berghof's little eyes squinted rapidly and he moistened his lips
nervously.
"The other one?"
"The one in which the money was removed?"
"I--I don't understand."
"Follow me closely, Herr Berghof. You have said that Fraeulein Korasov
carried her suit-case to her room. Were there servants to perform that
service?"
"Yes."
"Fraeulein Korasov had the money in that suit-case. Herr Hochwald knew
that she had taken it, or he would not have gone to her room at night
with you and forced the door. She did take it. But who helped her?"
"I'm sure I----"
"Are there bells in the bed-rooms?"
"Yes, but----"
"Where do they ring?"
"Er--in the office. It is an English system----"
"Were there any calls between eleven and half-past twelve?"
Rowland was shooting his questions at the bewildered clerk like
thunderbolts, and the man seemed to have grown more and more anxious.
"Calls? I dropped into a doze in my chair, as I have said. I
cannot----"
"Think----!"
"Yes, a call or two--but I was half asleep----"
"A call--who answered it?"
Berghof rubbed his head with unsteady fingers but replied with
reluctance.
"Yes. There was a call."
"Did you answer it?"
"No. It is the duty of the valet or night porter."
"Did the night porter go?"
"I--I presume so."
"The night porter! What is his name?"
Herr Berghof now seemed truly alarmed and for a moment refused to reply.
"What is his name?" thundered Rowland.
"Drelich!" said Berghof sullenly.
"Is he on duty now?"
"No."
"Can you find him?"
"No."
"You shall try. I will go with you. He is the man who has taken the
money."
Liederman and Senf who had followed the rapid deductions of the American
with astonishment, rose eagerly and Zoya Rochal laughed her admiration.
"You are right," said Senf.
"It is worth trying," muttered Liederman.
"There is no time to be lost," said Rowland quickly. And then to Senf,
"Have your men been sent to trace the cab?"
"No, Herr Rowland--since the money was the most important----"
Rowland reached down into his pocket, pulled forth the talisman of Nemi
and crashed it down upon the table.
"If there's any virtue in this--if Nemi is anything but an empty
word--if its leader is your master as well as your slave, then do as I
command," he said sternly.
Herr Senf gazed at the coin and then looked up at the dominating figure
before him.
"What more can I do----"
"Find me the man who drove that cab," said Rowland. "And you, Herr
Liederman--give me money. I need it."
Max Liederman glanced at Zoya Rochal, then at Rowland, and without a
word obeyed.
"I will go with you, Herr Rowland," said Zoya Rochal decisively.
But Rowland was already out of the door, his hand on Herr Berghof's arm.
Georg Senf ran his fingers through his long hair and looked at Liederman
as Rowland went out.
"If we have longed for a leader, Herr Liederman, the God of Democracy
has sent us one. Some of his fire has got into my ancient bones. I
will follow and obey."
Liederman grunted and glanced at the door through which Zoya Rochal had
departed.
"He is keen," he muttered grudgingly.
"Moreover, his judgment is excellent. Our case falls without Fraeulein
Korasov. We must find her. I myself will go to the cab stand in the
Maximilian Strasse. Call Herr Hoffner if you please and I will give him
instructions."
In the meanwhile Rowland and Zoya Rochal with Herr Berghof found a cab.
The Swiss, at first sullen and inclined to balk Rowland's plans, was
speedily brought into submission by the American's determined attitude
and the exhibition of an automatic, the mere sight of which made him
become more obliging and cheerful. And they found the lodgings of the
porter Drelich at last, and Drelich himself quite drunk upon his bed in
his room. But he became more sober and quite alarmed when the purpose
of the visit was disclosed to him. He was a man of sixty, servile of
manner but at first furtive and obstinate, giving evasive replies. But
Zoya Rochal, who was resourceful, informed him that she was an agent of
the Government and the man collapsed.
"Against my better judgment, I did it, Fraeulein," he stammered. "Money
is not made so easily nowadays."
"Fraeulein Korasov gave you money?" asked Rowland eagerly.
"Five hundred marks. I give it to you. Here it is," and with trembling
hands he brought it forth from a greasy note book in his pocket.
"Tell us what you did and you may keep this money," said Rowland
quickly.
Drelich straightened hopefully and looked from one to the other.
"I did this thing in ignorance. How could I know that the Fraeulein was
working against the interests of the Fatherland?"
"Speak--what happened?" ordered Rowland.
"I was called to the office by Herr Berghof to reply to a call upon the
indicator. He will tell you that. I noted the number and went to room
Number two twenty-one. The Fraeulein within looked out at me and I could
see that she was very much disturbed. Then she called me within the
room and shut the door behind me. As the lock caught I too was startled
for I could not know what was to happen. She produced from the pocket
of her coat this note which she held up that I might look. 'I want a
suit-case or a bag of the size of this one,' said she. 'Bring it here
at once and obey my further instructions and I will give you the money.'
I remembered that there were some old suit-cases in the porter's
room--long unclaimed and it did not take me more than a few minutes to
unlock one of them with my keys, to empty it and return to room Number
two twenty-one. I am sure that I have done nothing which could put me
under suspicion of having done other than a service to a guest of the
hotel."
"Go on," urged Zoya, as the man paused.
"The Fraeulein took the suit-case into the bath room and in a moment
brought it forth and handed it to me. It was very heavy but that was
none of my business."
"What did you do with it?"
"My instructions were to take it to the Haupt Bahnhof and leave it in
the check-room, returning with the check which I was to give to her,
provided I had an opportunity to hand it to her unobserved. So I told
Herr Berghof that I was taking a bag to the station and carried it
there."
"Ah! You told Herr Berghof that and when you returned you gave her the
ticket?" asked Rowland excitedly.
"There was no chance. When I returned to the Hotel and went up the
servants' stairs to the second floor I heard a loud commotion in the
corridor and peering out saw Herr Berghof and another gentleman standing
before the door of the Fraeulein, knocking and shouting. Then I knew
that it was best for me to remain silent. So I went to Herr Berghof
reporting that I was sick and went out of the hotel and--then I think
that I drank more than was good for me--for I have slept until just now
when you awakened me."
"Did anyone come to your room while you slept?"
"How should I know? No one comes here."
"No one could have taken the ticket for the bag?"
The man looked bewildered.
"I don't know----"
"The ticket--the check for the bag," shouted Zoya, mad with excitement.
"It is here----" he said. And fingering stupidly in his waistcoat
pocket Drelich produced an oblong slip of card board.
"The Haupt Bahnhof," cried Rowland. "Come----"
And dragging the unfortunate Drelich by the arm before he had a chance
even to take up his cap, Rowland turned toward where Herr Berghof had
stood beside the door.
The man had disappeared.
A blank look came into Rowland's face, followed by a sudden frown, as he
cursed himself for his stupidity in not keeping better watch. But there
was no time to spare and pushing Drelich before him into the waiting cab
in a moment he and Zoya Rochal were driving post haste to the Railway
station.
"Was the bag locked?" asked Zoya eagerly.
"I don't know."
"We shall find it," muttered Rowland between set teeth.
"Monsieur Rowland!" said Zoya, smiling at him joyously, "you are quite
the most wonderful man in all the world. Accept my congratulations."
"Wait----" said Rowland shortly.
As they drove up to the station Rowland leaped out and still holding
Drelich by the arm hurried toward the parcel room, Zoya Rochal
breathlessly following.
At the window, his heart leaping with suspense, Rowland presented the
ticket to the baggage agent, who with maddening deliberation moved
slowly along an aisle, whistling and peering to right and left. Zoya,
her hand trembling on Rowland's arm, watched the leisurely movements of
the official, like Rowland a prey to maddening incertitude. They saw
the man go down the aisle looking at bag after bag, finally picking out
a bright yellow suit case, bringing it forth and laying it upon the
counter.
Rowland glanced at Drelich who was staring at the new bag stupidly. But
compelled by Rowland's gaze he frowned and whispered,
"It is not the bag----"
"It's not the bag!" repeated Rowland. "There's some mistake here."
The official scratched his head and frowned.
"That is strange. It is impossible that our checking system should
err."
"But it _has_ erred," roared Rowland. "It was this man himself who
brought the bag here--this office which gave him the ticket. Is it not
so?" to Drelich.
"That is true. A black bag, old, plastered with labels----"
"We never make mistakes," broke in the official with rising anger. "Our
records show that this is your bag. You must take it."
Rowland could have laughed in the man's face, but instead he raised his
voice again, while the fingers of Zoya Rochal closed upon his arm and he
realized that a crowd was gathering.
"Will you not let this man look and see if he can discover my property?"
he asked more quietly.
"_Verboten_," said the official shortly, and turning on his heel, walked
back to the records of the system which could not err.
There seemed to be nothing to do but take the yellow suit-case to the
cab and depart. Somewhat bewildered by this ill turn of fortune, which
could not be explained Rowland took up the bag dejectedly and was about
to lead the way to the door when he felt Zoya Rochal's fingers fiercely
clutch his elbow. She stopped, her face blanching, her eyes staring
wildly at a tall figure in a military uniform who stood before her.
The man was very erect and quite old, his face graven with innumerable
fine wrinkles which just now had broken into a cynical smile.
"My compliments, Madame," said a thin crisp voice. "It is a great
pleasure to meet you here, so unexpectedly."
Zoya Rochal had recovered herself instantly and forced a laugh.
"You--Herr General! It is--a great pleasure----"
"You grow more beautiful, Madame--with every year. A little
pale--perhaps--but it becomes you, like the blossoms upon a meadow in
June. You are quite well?"
"Ah, quite, Herr General----"
"It seemed to me that perhaps you were a little nervous."
"It is so long since I have seen you. I thought perhaps that you might
be angry at my failure last year----"
"Angry? I? One cannot expect to succeed always." And then, with a
malicious grin, "You are not engaged in any propaganda dangerous to the
Fatherland?"
"Ah. You--you are unkind. Have I not----?"
"Women are the only uncertain quantity in the world equation," he said
slowly, his eyes peering down at her. Then turning to Rowland, he asked
quickly, "Your companion is harmless?"
Rowland, who had stood uneasily, bag in hand, now found refuge in a
smile.
"Harmless--yes," stammered Zoya. "Herr Leo Knaus--Herr General
Graf----"
"No names, Madame," broke in the tall officer with a smile.
"Good-bye--and remember that Argus had a hundred eyes----"
And with one keen look which seemed to sweep them both comprehendingly,
from top to toe, the Herr General clicked his heels and departed. Zoya
Rochal remained as though frozen to the floor, looking after him.
Rowland caught her by the arm and moved slowly toward the door.
"Sardonic old pelican!" he said with a grin. "Would you mind telling me
who in the devil----?"
"The devil himself," she broke in, with a stifled voice. "Graf von
Stromberg!"