SPIES AND WAR
They took off the bed clothes, including the two huge feather
bolsters in the center.
"These bolsters are for the gingerbread effect that the German likes
everywhere," explained the visitor. They examined the remaining
construction. It was narrow and short. It suggested a granite-like
base.
"Rock of Ages!" commented Anderson. "As you can't ask for an
additional bed, all I can see is for you to swill beer and then you
don't care where you sleep. That's the way the Germans do."
The journalist appeared disappointed in not meeting any of the
family that first day. Frau was overwhelmed in kitchen duties and
not presentable. The other members were away, working, working.
Anderson had to be contented with Gard's description of them, after
the latter had passed the cigars.
"Who's the spy in your family?" abruptly asked the elder.
"The spy?"
"Yes, the spy. Every well-regulated German family should have a spy
in it."
"What for?" queried Kirtley in surprise.
"Why, for the Kaiser, of course. Who else? The Teutons call him
euphemistically the Government. But without Wilhelm there wouldn't
be any German Government."
"Why should he want spies in his own German families?" interrogated
Gard innocently.
"Didn't every medieval feudal lord keep close tab on his
subjects--the people he owned? The Kaiser wants to know of any signs
of disloyalty. If a household harbors any foreigners, as your family
is doing, he wants to know what they are up to."
"Do you mean to say that the Government knows about me--that I'm
being watched?"
"They are at least ready to watch you. Mind you, Germany is a real
block-house, and the elaborate spy system is an integral part of it.
I should say, from what you tell me of the Buchers, that young
Rudolph is the sleuth here."
"Rudolph?"
"Yes. He's doubtless keeping an eye on you and reporting to the
authorities if there's anything suspicious about you and your
actions."
And then the journalist, pleased to have a fresh listener, launched
upon his pet idea.
"The Kaiser is preparing an abysmal pitfall for the world and it
won't take heed. I tell you, Kirtley--and I want you to mark my
words--Deutschland is going to spring at Europe like a tiger. The
army and navy are ready for the onslaught. When they spring, it will
be farewell to civilization--except the German--unless something
like a miracle supervenes. The French army is being moth-eaten by
the Socialists, the British navy has dry rot. I look to see Wilhelm
practically the ruler of the earth. If not, he will cause it to pay
a cost that will make the next fifty years groggy."
Kirtley thought this was jesting. He later learned that the "old
man" was regarded as "cracked" on this topic. Every spring he
prophesied war, but it had not come. The Kaiser failed to rush to
Paris and there dictate terms to an astounded and cowed universe.
People politely laughed in their sleeves. Yes, Anderson was a fine
fellow, but they wearied of his dismal forebodings that came to
naught. Some said it was because German had been hard for him to
learn. He had taken it up when more than fifty and had become
tangled in its snarling roots--its beer-drunken syntax. "He had got
mad at the language." It was natural that he should get mad at the
people.
Gard saw a light.
"Perhaps," he said, "that's what the Buchers really mean about the
German army conquering everybody whenever it wants to."
"That's it, that's it!" Anderson was gratified by the confirmation.
He went on with grave seriousness.
"I'm a journalist. I have opportunities to see behind the curtain,
haven't I? I have been at the army maneuvers, at the officers'
messes and dinners, when they were sober and when they were drunk.
Beer loosened their tongues and they did not care. They talk of it,
boast of it, and the civilian, too. I'm telling no secrets. They are
very frank about it. Don't you hear the Buchers openly discussing
it? They all give us warning and we say it's a fine day. Did you
ever read any of the Kaiser's speeches in German? There you find it
all. But he's crazy, they say. Crazy or not, he has the most
thoroughly organized and powerful nation behind him that the globe
ever saw. And behind him to a man."
"Why don't you write it up, then--tell people over home?" Gard
ventured, somewhat impressed.
"Write it up? Tell people? That's what I _have_ been doing for five
years. But what's the use of shouting to a world of fools? No one
will pay any attention to it. My paper sends my stuff back and says
it don't want war talk--it wants peace talk. Americans are happy and
they don't want to be disturbed. They only want to hear about what
they want to believe. So it seems to be everywhere."
"I guess you are right about that," Gard testified. "I have been a
pretty fair reader of our papers and periodicals and have never been
made to feel there was any need for alarm."
"Exactly," Anderson scolded. "Why, look at our Exchange professors.
They are coming over here, ready to swallow the Germans whole. The
Kaiser invites them to lunch on his yacht, gives them a pat on the
shoulder blade, and they are his. While the Germans plainly despise
us, our educators go home crying Great is Germany! How superior are
her people! Let us send our sons over there to drink of her wisdom
and grandeur! What inanity! Bah!"
"And so here I am," Gard smiled. "But I have bunted into you almost
the first thing."
"Couldn't do better--couldn't do better," repeated Anderson with a
cheering turn. "I'll tell you what to do. I'll give you a little
practical advice--free."
"It won't be worth much if it's free, will it?"
"Well, it's worth this rotten German cigar you've given me. Read the
editorials and correspondence in the Dresden papers. They're a good
sample. There you'll see what the German attitude toward us is
officially, and what German hatred feeds on day by day. The trouble
with Americans over here is they don't read anything serious. Of
course our students study their text books. But generally our people
just fly around, hear music, drink beer in the cafés, but they don't
read. Too nervous--afraid of being bored. So they don't learn much."
Anderson ran on into other subjects.
"One great thing about the German system is that it would make such
people work to some purpose. We don't. It also makes its plodders
work. This Government recognizes frankly that most of its
population, like all populations, are plodders, and it gives them
something regularly to do and sees that they do it. This converts
this dull element into an organized strength--a source of power. The
Germans practice their wonderful economies with respect to the
poorest kind of human energy. They kick something into their drones.
So they are such a mighty nation in a small land.
"In America, in other countries, this element is rather a
disorganized weakness. It is not pushed. It is for the most part
waste material or neglected material. Our public system, when
economies are concerned, first considers money, property. It seems
sometimes as if our free individualistic plan of government were,
after all, adapted for the minority of the bright-witted."