The Apartment Next Door

BY

WILLIAM JOHNSTON

AUTHOR OFTHE HOUSE OF WHISPERS, LIMPY, ETC. 

ILUSTRATIONS BYARTHUR WILLIAM BROWN

_1919_

TO THAT MARVELLOUS SCHEHERAZADE

CAROLYN WELLS HOUGHTON

THE AUTHOR, IN ENVIOUS ADMIRATION, DEDICATES THIS VOLUME

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. THE FACE OF HATE

II. THE ADDRESS ON THE CARD

III. "MR. FLECK"

IV. THE CLUE IN THE BOOK

V. ON THE TRAIL

VI. THE MISSING MESSAGE

VII. THE WOMAN ON THE ROOF

VIII. THE LISTENING EAR

IX. THE PURSUIT

X. CARTER'S DISCOVERY

XI. JANE'S ADVENTURE

XII. PUZZLES AND PLANS

XIII. THE SEALED PACKET

XIV. THE MOUNTAIN'S SECRET

XV. THE HOUSE IN THE WOODS

XVI. THE ATTACK ON THE HOUSE

XVII. SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

XVIII. WHAT THE PACKET CONTAINED

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 * * * * *

She could not bring herself to tell him, theman she loved, the thing she knew hewas. 

More than likely, she alone in all the world--knewwho the murderer was. 

Had he been standing there listening? Howmuch had he heard?

"Thank God, " he cried. "Jane, dear, tell me you are not hurt!"

THE APARTMENTNEXT DOOR

CHAPTER I

THE FACE OF HATE

It was three o'clock in the morning. Along a deserted pavement ofRiverside Drive strode briskly a young man whose square-set shouldersand erect poise suggested a military training. His coat, throwncarelessly open to the cold night wind, displayed an expanse of whiteindicative of evening dress. As he walked his heels clicked sharply onthe concrete with the forceful firm tread of the type which does thingsquickly and decisively. The intense stillness of the early morning hourscarried the sound in little staccato beats that could be heard blocksaway. A few yards behind him, moving furtively and noiselessly, almostas if he had been shod with rubber, crept another figure, that of astocky, broad-shouldered man, who despite his bulk and weight movedsilently and swiftly through the night, a soft brown hat drawn low overhis eyes as if he desired to avoid recognition. 

All at once the man ahead paused suddenly and stood looking out over theriver. Between the Drive and the distance-dimmed lights of the Jerseyshore there rose like great silhouettes the grim figures of several hugesteel-clad battleships, their fighting-tops lost in the shadows of theopposite hills. Beside them, obscure, with no lights visible, lay thegreat transports that in a few hours, or in a few days--who knew--theywould be convoying with their precious cargo of fighting men across thewar-perilled Atlantic. 

It was on the forward deck of one of these great battleships that theeyes of the man ahead were riveted. His shadower, evidently muchconcerned in his actions, crept slowly and stealthily forward, approaching nearer and still nearer without being observed. 

A dim light became visible on the warship's deck and then vanished. Still the man stood there watching, a puzzled, anxious look coming intohis face. Quickly the light reappeared--two flashes, a pause, twoflashes, a pause, and then a single flash. It was such a light as mighthave been made by a pocket torch, a feeble ray barely strong enough tocarry to the adjacent shore, a light that if it had been flashed fromsome sheltered nook by the boat davits might not even have attracted theattention of the officer on the bridge nor of the ship's watchmen. Manifestly it was a signal intended for the eyes of some one on shore. 

A muttered imprecation escaped the lips of the watcher on the Drive. Hestood there, straining his eyes toward the ship as if expecting afollowing signal, then he turned and gazed aloft at the windows of theapartment houses lining the driveway to see if some answering signalflashed back. 

And in the shadow of the buildings, hardly ten feet away but halfsheltered by a doorway, stood his sinister pursuer, motionlessbut alert. 

For perhaps a quarter of an hour they held their positions. At last theman who was being followed shrugged his shoulders impatiently and setoff again down the Drive, from time to time turning his head to watchthe spot from which the signal had been flashed. Behind him, asdoggedly as ever and now a little closer, crept the man with the hatover his eyes. 

Regardless of the lateness of the hour, at a third-floor window of oneof the great apartment houses lining the Drive sat a young girl in hernightrobe, with her two great black braids flung forward over hershoulders, about which she had placed for warmth's sake a quiltednegligee. Jane Strong was far too excited to sleep. An hour before shehad come in from a wonderful party. The music still was playing madtunes in her ears. The excitement, the coffee, the spirited tilts atarms with her many dancing partners had set her brain on fire. Sleepseemed impossible as yet. 

Looking out at the river--a favorite occupation of hers--the sight ofthe warships looming up through the darkness reminded her once more thatnearly all of the men with whom she had been dancing had been inuniform, bringing into prominence in the jumble of ideas in herover-stimulated brain, almost as a new discovery, the fact that hercountry was really engaged in war, that the men, the very men whom sheknew best, were most of them fighting, or soon going to fight in aforeign land. Suddenly she found herself vaguely wishing that there wassomething she might do, something for the war, something to help. Wouldit not be splendid, she thought, to go to France as a Red Cross nurse, to be over there in the middle of things, where something exciting wasforever going on. Life--the only life she knew about, existence as thepetted daughter of well-to-do parents in a big city--had, ever since thewar had begun, seemed strangely flat and uninteresting. Parties, to besure, were fun but hardly any one was giving parties this year. TheStantons had entertained only because their lieutenant son was goingabroad soon, and they wished him to have a pleasant memory to carry withhim. Most of the interesting men she knew already were gone, and nowJack Stanton was going. How she wished she could find some way ofgetting into the war herself. 

The sound of approaching footsteps caught her ear. Wondering who wasabroad at that hour of the night she pushed up the window softly andlooked out. In the distance she saw a man approaching, striding brisklytoward her. As she stood idly watching him and wondering about him, suddenly she caught her breath. She had sighted the other figure behind, the man creeping stealthily after him. Nearer and nearer they came. Intense expectation she waited, sensing some unusual development. They hadreached her block now. Almost directly under her window the man inadvance paused to light a cigarette. His shadow paused, too, but someincautious movement on his part must have betrayed him. 

Match in hand, the man in advance stood stock-still, his whole figuretaut, poised, alert, in an attitude of listening. All at once he wheeledabout, discovering the man close behind him. He sprang at once for hispursuer. The latter took to his heels, dashing around the corner, theman whom he had been following now hot at his heels. 

All trembling with nervous excitement Jane leaned out the window tolisten and watch. She could hear the running feet of both men justaround the corner. What was happening? The running feet came to anabrupt stop. There was a half-smothered cry, a sharp thud, like a bodystriking the pavement, and then came silence. Puzzled, vaguely alarmed, a hundred questions came pouring into her brain and lingered theredisturbingly. Why had one of these men been shadowing the other? Why hadthe pursuer suddenly become the pursued? Why had the running footstepscome to such an abrupt stop? What was the noise she had heard? What washappening around the corner? Her fears rapidly growing, she was on thepoint of arousing her family. But what excuse should she give? Whatcould she tell them? After all she had merely seen two men run up theside street. More than likely they would only laugh at her, and she didnot like being laughed at. Besides, Dad was always cross when suddenlyawakened. Undecided what to do she stood at the window, peering intothe night. 

Five minutes, ten minutes she stood there in tremulous perplexity. Asense of impending tragedy seemed to have laid hold of her. A blackhorror seized her and held her at the window. Something terrible, something tragic, she was sure must have happened. Mustering up herstrength and trying to calm her fears she was about to put down thewindow when she heard footsteps once more approaching. Straining herears to listen she discovered the sound was that of the steps of aman--one man--approaching from around the corner. As she watched heturned into the Drive and came on toward her. She shrank back a little, fearful of being seen even though her room was in darkness. It was thefirst man. She recognized him at once by his top-hat and his eveningclothes. He was walking even more briskly than before, almost running. There was no sign anywhere of the shorter thick-set man who had beenfollowing him. Something in the appearance of the figure in the streetbelow struck her all at once as vaguely familiar. She wondered if itcould be any one she knew. 

Presently he came directly opposite the light on the other side of theDrive so that it shone for an instant full on his face. Jane looked andshuddered. Never in all her life had she seen any man's countenance soconvulsed, not with pain, but with a soul-terrifying expression of hate, of virulent, murderous hate. 

Distorted though the man's face was with such bitter frightfulness, sherecognized him, not as any one she knew, but merely as one of thetenants in the same apartment building. 

"It's one of the people next door, " she said to herself and inverification of her identification, as he approached the building, theyoung man cast a swift glance over his shoulder, and then, as ifsatisfied that he was unobserved, dashed hurriedly in at the entrance. 

Jane, more than ever wrought up with fear and dread of she knew notwhat, sprang hastily into bed and drew the covers about her shoulders. As yet she did not lie down but shiveringly waited. Presently she heardthe elevator stop. She heard the key opening the door of the nextapartment. In a few minutes she heard the man moving about his bedroom, separated from her own room by a mere six inches of plaster and paper, or whatever it is that apartment-house walls are made of. 

What could have happened? She was certain that something terrible hadoccurred in which the young man next door had played a tragic, perhapseven a criminal part. She tried in vain to conjecture what circumstancecould have been responsible for the look of hatred she had seen on hisface. She wondered what had been the fate of the man who had beenfollowing him. Had they quarrelled and fought? What could have been thesubject of their quarrel?

She tried to summarize what she knew about the people next door, and wasamazed to discover how little she had to draw upon. As in most New Yorkapartment houses so in Jane's home all the tenants were utter strangersto each other, one family not even knowing the names of any of theothers. Occasionally, to be sure, one rather resentfully rode up or downin the elevator with some of the other tenants but always withoutnoticing or speaking to them. Jane's family had been living in thebuilding for five years, and of the twenty other families they knew thenames of only two, having learned them by accident rather thanintention. About the people next door Jane now discovered that shereally knew nothing at all. There was a man with a gray beard who nevertook off his hat in the elevator, and there was the handsome young chapwhom she had just seen entering. But what their names were, or theirbusiness, or how long they had lived there, or whether they were fatherand son, what servants they kept, or whether either or both of them wasmarried--these were questions she could have answered as readily as ifthey had been living in Dallas, Texas, or Seattle, Washington, as in thenext apartment. Quickly she found that she really knew nothing at allabout them except--she could not recall that any one had told her or howshe had got the impression--she was almost certain they were some sortof foreigners. 

Just when it was that her troubled thoughts were succeeded by even moretroubled dreams she was not aware, but it was noon the next day when shewas awakened by the maid bringing in her breakfast tray. 

"Terrible, Miss Jane, wasn't it, " said the servant, "about that suicidelast night, almost under our noses, you might say. "

"Suicide!" cried the girl, at once wide-awake and interested "Whatsuicide?"

"A man was found dead in the side street right by our building with arevolver in his hand. "

"What sort of a looking man was he?"

"I didn't see him, " said the maid, almost regretfully. "He was takenaway before I was up. Cook tells me it was the milkman found him andnotified the police. "

"Who was he?"

"Nobody round here knows a thing about him. He shot himself through theheart and us sleeping here an' not knowing anything at all about it. "

"But didn't any one know who he was?"

"Never a soul. The superintendents from all the buildings round took alook at the body, but none of them knew him. It wasn't anybody thatlived around here. There's a piece in the afternoon papers about it. "

"Get me a paper at once, " directed the girl. 

Eagerly she read the paragraph the maid pointed out. It really told verylittle. The body of a plainly dressed man had been found on thesidewalk. There was a revolver in his hand with one cartridgedischarged, and the bullet had penetrated his heart. He had been a shortstalky man and had worn a brown soft hat. There was nothing about hisclothing to identify him, even the marks where his suit had beenpurchased having been removed. He had not been identified. The policeand the coroner were satisfied that it was a case of suicide. 

Suicide!

Jane, reading and rereading the paragraph, recalled the unusualoccurrence she had witnessed the night before. Vividly there stood outbefore her the strange panorama she had seen, the tall young man inevening clothes, and the short stalky man with the soft hat who hadfollowed him. The two of them had run around the corner. Only one ofthem had come back. Unforgettably there was imprinted in her memory thesatanic expression on the young man's face as he had hastened into thehouse. No wonder he had cast such an anxious glance behind him ashe entered. 

Suicide!

Jane was certain that it was no suicide. She remembered the curious thudshe had heard from around the corner, like a body falling to thepavement. She recalled that it must have been at least ten minutesbefore the other man reappeared, time enough to have placed the revolverin the dead man's hand, time enough even to have removed all possiblemeans of identification from the man's clothing. 

It was not suicide, Jane felt certain. It was murder! Slowly butoppressingly, overwhelmingly, it dawned on her not only that in allprobability a murder had been committed, but also that she--more thanlikely, she alone in all the world--knew who the murderer was, who itmust have been--the young man next door. 

CHAPTER II

THE ADDRESS ON THE CARD

Impatiently Jane looked at her wrist watch. It lacked an hour of thetime when she was to meet her mother at the Ritz for tea. Her nervesstill all ajangle from excitement and worry over the morning's tragedy, and her own accidental secret knowledge of certain aspects of the casehad made it wholly impossible for her to do anything that day with evensimulated interest. 

She had been debating with herself whether or not to confide to hermother the story of the tragic tableau of which she had been anaccidental witness, when Mrs. Strong had dashed into her bedroom to giveher a hurried peck on the cheek and to say that she was off to luncheonand the matinée with Mrs. Starrett. 

"You're not looking well to-day, dear, " her mother had said. "Stay inbed and rest and join us for tea if you like. "

Before she had opportunity to tell what she had seen, her mother wasgone, but Jane had found it impossible to obey her well-meantinjunction. She rose and dressed, her mind busy all the while with theproblem of what her duty was. As she donned her clothing she paused fromtime to time to listen for sounds from the next apartment. 

What was her neighbor doing now? Had he read of the discovery of theman's body in the street? Perhaps he had fled already? Not a sound wasto be heard there. He did not look in the least like what Jane imagineda murderer would, yet certainly the circumstances pointed all tooplainly to his guilt. She had seen two men dash around the corner, onein pursuit of the other. One of them had come back alone. Not longafterward a body--the body of the other man--had been found with abullet in his heart. It must have been a murder. 

What ought she to do about it? Was it her duty to tell her mother andDad about what she had seen? Mother, she knew, would be horrified andwould caution her to say nothing to any one, but Dad was different. Hehad strict ideas about right and justice. He would insist on hearingevery word she had to tell. More than likely he would decide that it washer duty to give the information to the authorities. Her face blanchedat the thought. She could not do that. She pictured to herself thenotoriety that would necessarily ensue. She saw herself being hounded byreporters, she imagined her picture in the papers, she heard herselfbranded as "the witness in that murder case, " she depicted herself beingquestioned by detectives and badgered by lawyers. 

No, she decided, it would be best for her never to tell a soul, not evenher parents. In persistent silence lay her safest course. After all shehad not witnessed the commission of the crime. She was not even surethat the man found dead had been one of the two she had watched from herwindow. If she saw the body she would not be able to identify it. Shewas not even certain in her own mind that the man next door had done theshooting, however suspicious his actions may have appeared to her. Besides, he did not look in the least like a murderer. He was toowell-dressed. 

In an effort to put the whole thing out of her mind she tried to read, but was unable to keep her thoughts from wandering. She sat down at thepiano, but music failed to interest or soothe her. She mussed over someunanswered notes in her desk but could not summon up enoughconcentration of mind to answer them. Restless and fidgety, unable tokeep her thoughts from the unusual occurrences that had disturbed herordinarily too peaceful life, she decided to take a walk until it wastime to keep her appointment. Something--force of habit probably--ledher to the shopping district. With still half an hour to kill, she wentinto a little specialty shop to examine some knitting bags displayed inthe window. 

"Why don't you knit as all the other girls are doing?" was her father'sconstant suggestion every time she asserted her desire to be doingsomething in the war. 

"There's no thrill in knitting, " she would answer. "Fix it, Dad, so thatI can go to France as a Red Cross nurse or as an ambulance driver, won'tyou? I want some excitement. "

Always he had refused to consent to her going, insisting that France inwartime was no place for an untrained girl. 

"If I can't go myself, I certainly am not going to send any knitting, "she would spiritedly answer, but several times recently the sight ofsuch charming looking knitting bags had tempted her into almost breakingher resolution. 

Inside the shop she found nothing that appealed to her, and contentedherself with buying some toilet articles. As she made her purchases shenoticed, almost subconsciously, a man standing near, talking with one ofthe shopgirls--a middle-aged man with a dark mustache. 

"The address, please, " said the girl, who had been waiting on her. 

"Miss Strong, " she answered, giving the number of the apartment house onRiverside Drive. 

She recalled afterward that as she mentioned the number the man standingthere had turned and looked sharply at her, but she thought nothing ofit. Her father's name was well known and he had many acquaintances inthe city. More than likely, she supposed, this man was some friend ofher father who had recognized the name. 

She lingered a few moments at some of the other counters, aimlesslyinspecting their offerings, and at last, with ten minutes left to reachthe Ritz, emerged from the store. She was amazed to see the man who hadbeen inside now standing near the entrance, and something within warnedher that he had been waiting to speak to her. As she attempted to passhim quickly, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path, but raisinghis hat deferentially. 

"I beg your pardon, Miss Strong, " he said, "may I have a word with you?"

Compelled to halt, she looked at him both appraisingly and resentfully. There was nothing offensive nor flirtatious in his manner, and he seemedfar too respectably dressed to be a beggar. He was almost old enough tobe her father, and besides there was about him an indefinable air ofauthority that commanded her attention. She decided that, unusual as hisrequest appeared, she would hear what he had to say. 

"What is it?" she asked, trying to assume an air of hauteur but withoutbeing able wholly to mask her curiosity. 

"You are an American, aren't you?" he asked abruptly. 

"Of course. "

"A good American?"

"I hope so. " She decided now that he must be one of the members of someRed Cross fund "drive, " or perhaps an overenthusiastic salesman forgovernment bonds. "But I don't quite understand what it is thatyou wish. "

"I can't explain, " said her questioner, "but if you really are a goodAmerican and you'd like to do your country a great service--an importantservice--go at once to the address on this card. "

She took the slip of white pasteboard handed her. On it was written inpencil "Room 708. " The building was a skyscraper down-town. 

"What is it?" she asked half indignantly, "a new scheme to sell bonds?"

"No, no, Miss Strong, " he cried, "it is nothing like that. It is a greatopportunity to do an important service for America. "

"How did you know my name?"

"I heard you give it to the clerk just now. "

"And why, " she inquired with what she intended to be withering sarcasm, "have I been selected so suddenly for this important work?"

"I heard the address you gave, that's why, " he answered. "That's whatmakes it so important that you should go to that number at once. Ask forMr. Fleck. "

"I can't go, " she temporized. "I am on my way now to meet my mother atthe Ritz. "

"Go to-morrow, then, " he insisted. "I'll see Mr. Fleck meanwhile andtell him about you. "

Puzzled at the man's unusual and wholly preposterous request, yet inspite of herself impressed by his evident sincerity, Jane turned thecard nervously in her hand and discovered some small characters on theback; "K-15" they read. 

"What do those figures mean?" she asked. 

"I can't tell you that. Mr. Fleck will explain everything. Promise meyou will go to see him. "

"Who are you?"

"I can't tell you that, yet. "

"Who, then, is Mr. Fleck?"

"He will explain that to you. "

"What has my address to do with it? I can't understand yet why you makethis preposterous request of me. "

"I tell you I can't explain it to you, not yet, " the man replied, "butit's because you live where you do you must go to see Mr. Fleck. It'sabout a matter of the highest importance to your government. It is moreimportant than life and death. "

His last words startled her. They brought to her mind afresh themysterious occurrence she had witnessed the night before and the equallymysterious death near her home. Had this man's odd request anyconnection, she wondered, with what had happened there? The lure of theunknown, the opportunity for adventure, called to her, though prudencebade her be cautious. 

"I'll ask my mother, " she temporized. 

"Don't, " cried the man. "You must keep your visit to Mr. Fleck a secretfrom everybody. You mustn't breathe a word about it even to your fatherand mother. Take my word for it, Miss Strong, that what I am asking youto do is right. I've two daughters of my own. The thing I'm urging youto do I'd be proud and honored to have either of them do if they could. There is no one else in the world but you that can do this particularthing. A word to a single living soul and you'll end your usefulness. You must not even tell any one you have talked with me. See Mr. Fleck. He'll explain everything to you. Promise me you'll see him. "

"I promise, " Jane found herself saying, even against her betterjudgment, won over by the man's insistence. 

"Good. I knew you would, " said her mysterious questioner, turning on hisheel and vanishing speedily as if afraid to give her an opportunity ofreconsidering. 

Puzzled beyond measure not only at the man's strange conduct but evenmore at her own compliance with his request, Jane made her way slowlyand thoughtfully to the Ritz, where she found her mother and Mrs. Starrett had already arrived. 

As they sipped their tea the two elder women chatted complacently aboutthe matinée, about their acquaintances, about other women in thetea-room and the gowns they had on, about bridge hands--the usual smalltalk of afternoon tea. 

To Jane, oppressed with her two secrets, all at once their conversationseemed the dreariest piffle. Great things were happening everywhere inthe world, nations at war, men fighting and dying in the trenches ofhorror for the sake of an ideal, kings were being overthrown, dynastiestottering, boundaries of nations vanishing. Women, she realized, too, more than ever in history, were taking an active and important part inworld affairs. In the lands of battle they were nursing the wounded, driving ambulances, helping to rehabilitate wrecked villages. In thelands where peace still reigned they were voting, speech-making, holdingjobs, running offices, many of them were uniting to aid in movements forcivic improvement, for better children, for the improvement of the wholehuman race. 

And here they were--here _she_ was, idling uselessly at the Ritz as shehad done yesterday, last week, last month--forever, it seemed to her. The vague protest that for some time had been growing within her againstthe senselessness and futility of her manner of existence crystallizeditself now into a determination no longer to submit to it. Courageouslyshe was resolving that she would take the first opportunity to escapefrom this boresome routine of pleasure-seeking. She was wondering if therequest that had been so unexpectedly made of her would prove to be herway out from her prison of desuetude. 

The talk of the two women with her drifted aimlessly on. Seldom was sheincluded in it, save when her mother, nodding to some one she knew, would turn to say:

"Daughter, there is Mrs. Jones-Lloyd. "

What did she care about Mrs. Jones-Lloyd? What did she care about any ofthe people about them, aimless, pleasure-hunting drifters likethemselves. Left to her own devices for mental activity her thoughtskept recurring to the surprising adventure she had had a few minutesbefore. Thoughtfully she pondered over the mysterious message that hadbeen given to her. The man had said that it was a wonderful opportunityfor her to do her country a great service. She wondered why he had beenso secretive about it. She decided that she would investigate furtherand made up her mind to carry out his instructions. What harm couldbefall her in visiting an office building in the business district? Atleast it would be something to do, something new, something different, something surely exciting and, perhaps, something useful. 

It would be better, she decided, for the present at least, to keep herintentions entirely to herself. Any hint of her plans to her motherwould surely result in permission being refused. The man certainly hadseemed sincere, honest, and perfectly respectable, even if he was not ofthe sort one would ask to dinner. She made up her mind to go down-townto the address given the very first thing to-morrow morning. If anythingshould happen to her, she felt that she could always reach her father. His office was in the next block. 

The problem of making the mysterious journey without her mother'sknowledge bothered her not at all. As in the case of mostapartment-house families, she and her mother really saw very little ofeach other, especially since she had become a "young lady. " Mrs. Strongwent constantly to lectures, to luncheons, to bridge parties, tomatinées with her own particular friends. Jane's engagements were withanother set entirely, school friends most of them, whose parents andhers hardly knew each other. Both she and her mother habituallybreakfasted in bed, generally at different hours, and seldom lunchedtogether. At dinner, when Mr. Strong was present, there were nointimacies between mother and daughter. The only times they really saweach other for protracted periods were when they happened to goshopping, or go to the dressmaker's together, and then the subjectalways uppermost in the minds of both of them was the all-important andabsorbing topic of clothes. Occasionally, Jane poured at one of hermother's more formal functions, but for the most part the time of eachwas taken up in a mad, senseless hunt for amusement. 

Suddenly every thought was driven from Jane's head. Her face went white, and with difficulty she managed to suppress an alarmed cry. 

"What is it, daughter?" asked her mother, noting her perturbation. "Areyou feeling ill?"

"A touch of neuralgia, " she managed to answer. 

"Too many late hours, " warned Mrs. Starrett reprovingly. 

"I'm afraid so, " said Mrs. Strong. "As soon as I've paid my check we'llgo. "

"I'm perfectly all right now, " said Jane, controlling herself witheffort, though her face was still white. 

The danger that she had feared had passed for the present at least. Glancing toward the entrance a moment before she had been terrified tosee entering the black-mustached man who had accosted her a few momentsbefore. Her one thought now had been that he had followed her here, andin a panic she was wondering how she should make explanations if he cameup to their table and spoke. To her great relief he gave no intimationof having seen her, but settled himself into a chair near the door wherehe was half hidden from her by a great palm. Furtively she watched him, trying to divine his intention in having followed her there. Respectableenough though he was in appearance and garb, he did not seem in theleast like the sort of man likely to be found at tea-time in anexclusive hotel. As she studied him she soon saw that his attentionseemed to be riveted on some one sitting at the other side of the room. Wonderingly she let her eyes follow his, and once more it was withdifficulty that she suppressed an excited gasp. 

There, across the room, calmly sipping some coffee, was the handsomeyoung man from the next apartment--the man whom she had felt sure, or atleast almost sure, was a murderer, about whom she had been wondering allday long, picturing him as a hunted criminal fleeing from the law. Chatting interestedly with him was another man, a young man in theuniform of a lieutenant in the navy. 

What did it all mean? Why was the black-mustached man watching them sointently? Her eyes turned back to him. He was still sitting there, leaning forward a little, his brows in a pucker of concentration, hiseyes still fixed on the pair opposite. It looked almost as if he wastrying to read their lips and tell what they were talking about. 

Jane thrilled with excitement. The black-mustached man, she decided, must be a detective. She recalled that he had said to her it was becauseshe lived at the address she did that she was available for the missionfor which he wanted her. Did he, she wondered, know about the mysteriousdeath in the street outside their apartment house? Was that the reasonhe was spying on her neighbor? But what could be his motive in seekingto involve her in the matter?

Unable to find satisfactory answers to her questions she gave herself upinterestedly to studying the faces of the two young men across the room. Neither of them, she decided, could be much more than thirty. The facethat only a few hours before she had seen utterly convulsed with bitterhate, now placid and smiling, was really an attractive one, not in theleast like a murderer's. Frank, alert blue eyes looked out from under anintellectual forehead. A small military mustache lent emphasis to aclean-shaven, forceful jaw. His flaxen hair was neatly trimmed. Hislinen and clothing were immaculate, and the hand that curved around hiscup had long, tapering, well-manicured fingers. The cut of his clothing, his manners, everything about him seemed American, yet there was anindefinable something in his appearance that suggested foreign birth orparentage, probably either Swedish or German. The man with him wassmaller and slighter. Despite the air of importance his uniform gavehim, it was palpable that he was the less forceful of the two, hishandsome face, it seemed to Jane, betraying weakness of character and afondness for the good things of life. 

"Come, daughter, " said Mrs. Strong, rising, "we must be going. "

So intent was Jane on her study of the two men that her mother had tospeak twice to her. 

"Yes, mother, " she answered obediently, rising hastily as the hint ofannoyance in her mother's repeated remark brought her to a realizationof having been addressed. 

Letting her mother and Mrs. Starrett precede her in the doorway shepaused to look back at the scene that had interested her so strongly. What _could_ it mean? What was going on? How was she involved in it?

Her glance moved quickly from the watcher to the watched. The blondyoung man caught her eye. Amazedly, it seemed to her, he stopped rightin the middle of what he was saying and sat there, his gaze fixed fullon her. She let her eyes fall, abashed, and turned to hasten after hermother, but not so quickly did she turn but that she observed he hadhastily seized his cup and appeared to be drinking to her, not so muchimpudently as admiringly. 

CHAPTER III

"MR. FLECK"

Twice after the elevator had deposited her on the floor Jane hadapproached the door of Room 708, and twice she had walked timorouslypast it to the end of the hall, trying to muster up courage to enter. Avisit to a man's office in the business district was a novelty for her. On the few previous excursions of the sort she had made she always hadbeen accompanied by one of her parents. She found herself wishing nowthat she had taken her father into her confidence and had asked him togo with her. Making shopping her excuse she had come down-town with Mr. Strong but had gotten off at Astor Place, and waited over foranother train. 

In her hand she held the card given to her by the black-mustached manthe afternoon before. As she studied it now her curiosity came to therescue of her fast-oozing courage. She must find out what it all meant, whatever the risk or peril that might confront her. Boldly she returnedto Room 708 and opened the door. An office boy seated at a desk lookedup inquiringly. 

"Is Mr. Fleck in?" she inquired timidly. 

"Who wishes to see him?"

"Just say there's a lady wishes to speak to him, " she faltered, hesitating to give her name. 

"Are you Miss Strong?" asked the boy abruptly, "because if you are, he'sexpecting you. "

She nodded, and the boy, jumping up, escorted her into an inner room. Asshe entered nervously an alert-looking man, with graying hair andmustache, rose courteously to greet her. In the quick glance she gave ather surroundings she was conscious only of the great mahogany desk atwhich he sat and behind it some filing cabinets and a huge safe, theouter doors of which stood open. 

"Sit down, won't you, Miss Strong, " he said, placing a chair for her. 

His manner and his cultured tone, everything about him, reassured her atonce. They conveyed to her that he was what she would have termed "agentleman, " and with a little sigh of relief she seated herself. 

"I'm afraid, " said Mr. Fleck, smiling, "that Carter's method ofapproaching you must have alarmed you. "

"Carter--Oh, the black-mustached man. "

"Yes, that describes him. You see, he did not wish to act definitelywithout consulting his chief, yet the unexpected opportunity seemed fartoo vital not to be utilized. He did not explain, did he, what it was wewanted of you?"

"Indeed he didn't, " said Jane, now wholly herself. "He was mostmysterious about it. "

Mr. Fleck smiled amusedly. 

"Carter has been an agent so long that being mysterious is second natureto him. "

"An agent--I don't understand. "

"A Department agent, " explained Mr. Fleck, adding, "engaged in secretservice work for the government. "

"Oh!"

Jane's exclamation was not so much of surprise as of delightedrealization, and the satisfaction expressed in her face was by no meanslost on Mr. Fleck. 

"Would you object, " he asked, moving his chair a little closer to hers, "if, before I explain why you are here, I ask you a few questions--verypersonal questions?"

"Certainly not, " said Jane. 

"You are American-born, of course?"

"Oh, yes. "

"And your parents?"

"American for ten or twelve generations. "

"How long have you lived in that apartment house on Riverside Drive?"

"For about five years. "

"Do you know any of the other tenants in the house?"

"No--that is, none personally. "

"Is your time fully occupied?"

"No, indeed it isn't, I've nothing to do at all, nothing except to tryto amuse myself. "

"Good, " said Mr. Fleck. "Now would you be willing to help in some secretwork for the United States Government, some work of the very highestimportance?"

"Would I?" cried Jane, her eyes shining. "Gladly! Just try me. "

"Don't answer too quickly, " warned Mr. Fleck. "Remember, it will be realwork, serious work, not always pleasant, sometimes possibly a littleperilous. Remember, too, it must be done with absolute secrecy. You mustnot let even your parents know that you are working with us. You mustpledge yourself to breathe no word of what you are doing or are asked todo to a living soul. Everything that we may tell you is to be buriedforever from everybody. No one is to be trusted. The minute one otherperson knows your secret it will no longer be a secret. Can we dependupon you?"

"You may absolutely depend on me, " said Jane slowly and soberly. "I giveyou my word. I have been eager for ever so long to do something to help, to really help. My father is doing all he can to aid the government. He's on the Shipping Board. "

Mr. Fleck nodded. Evidently he was aware of it already. 

"My brother, my only brother, " Jane continued, with a little catch inher throat, "is Over There--somewhere Over There--fighting for hisgovernment. If there is anything I can do to help the country he isfighting for, the country he may die for, I pledge you I will do itgladly with my heart, my soul, my body--everything. "

"Thank you, " said Mr. Fleck softly, taking her hand. "I felt sure youwere that sort of a girl. Now listen. " He moved his chair still closerto hers, and his voice became almost a whisper. "In the apartment nextto you there live two men, --Otto Hoff and his nephew, Fred. They have anold German servant, but we can leave her out of it for the present. Theold man is a lace importer. Apparently they are both abovesuspicion, yet--"

He stopped abruptly. 

"You think they are spies--spies for Germany, " questioned Janeexcitedly. "They're Germans, of course?"

"Otto Hoff is German-born, but he has been here for twenty years. Several years ago he took out papers and became an American citizen. "

"And the young man?"

Jane's tone was vibrant with interest. It must be the man she had seenfrom her window whom they suspected most. 

"He professes to be American-born. "

"Oh, " said the girl, rather disappointedly. 

"But, " continued Mr. Fleck, "there's something queer about it all. Hearrived in this country only three days before we went into the war. Hehad a certificate, properly endorsed, giving his birthplace asCincinnati. He arrived on a Scandinavian ship. He speaks German as welland as fluently as he speaks English, both without accent. "

"Perhaps he was educated abroad, " suggested Jane, rather amazed atfinding herself seeking to defend him. 

"He must have been, " said Fleck, "yet I find it hard to believe thatGermany at this time is letting any young German-American come home ifhe's soldier material--and young Hoff's appearance certainly suggestsmilitary training. "

"It surely does. "

"Unless, " continued Fleck, "there was some special object in sending himhere. "

"You think, " said Jane slowly, "they sent him here--to this country--asa spy. "

"In our business we dare not think. We cannot merely conjecture. We mustprove, " said Mr. Fleck. "Maybe the Hoffs are O. K. I do not know. Nobodyknows yet. Let me tell you some of the circumstances. This much we doknow. Von Bernstorff is gone. Von Papen is gone. Scores of active Germansympathizers and propagandists have been rounded up and interned orimprisoned, yet, in spite of all we have done, their work goes on. Avast secret organization, well supplied with funds, is constantly atwork in this country, trying to cripple our armies, trying to destroyour munition plants, trying to corrupt our citizens, trying to disruptour Congress. Every move the United States makes is watched. As youprobably know, every day now large numbers of American troops areembarking in transports in the Hudson. "

"Yes, " said Jane, "you can see them from our windows. "

"Now then, " said Mr. Fleck, lowering his voice impressively, "here isthe fact. Some one somewhere on Riverside Drive is keeping close andconstant tab on the warships and transports there in the river. We havemanaged recently to intercept and decipher some code messages. Thesemessages told not only when the transports sailed but how many troopswere on each and how strong their convoy was. Where these messagesoriginate we have not yet learned. We are practically certain that someone in our own navy, some black-hearted traitor wearing an officer'suniform--perhaps several of them--is in communication with some one onshore, betraying our government's most vital secrets. "

"I can't believe it, " cried Jane, "our own American officers traitors!"

"Undoubtedly some of them are, " said Mr. Fleck regretfully. "The Germanefficiency, for years looking forward to this war, carefully built up afar-reaching spy system. Years ago, long before the war was thoughtof--or at least before we in this country thought of it--many secretagents of Wilhelmstrasse were deliberately planted here. Many of themhave been residents here for years, masking their real occupation byengaging in business, utilizing their time as they waited for the war tocome by gathering for Germany all of our trade and commercial secrets. Some of these spies have even become naturalized, and they and theirsons pass for good American citizens. In some cases they have evenAmericanized their names. Insidiously and persistently they have workedtheir way into places, sometimes into high places in our chemicalplants, our steel factories, yes, even into high places in our army andnavy and into governmental positions where they can gather informationfirst-hand. In no other country has it been so easy for them, because ofthis one fact: so large a proportion of Uncle Sam's population is ofGerman birth or parentage. Why here in New York City alone there aremore than three-quarters of a million persons, either German-bornthemselves or born of German parents. Many of them, the vast majority ofthem, probably, are loyal to America, but think how the plenitude ofGerman names makes it easy for spies to get into our army and navy. Besides that, they employ evil men of other nationalities as spies, thecriminal riffraff, --Danes, Swedes, Spaniards, Italians, Swiss and evenSouth Americans, --all of whom are free to go and come as they choose inthis country. "

"I never realized before, " said Jane, "how many Germans there were allabout us. "

"In an effort to locate this particular band of naval spies, " continuedMr. Fleck, "we have combed the apartment houses and residences alongthe Drive. Three places in particular are under suspicion. The apartmentof the Hoffs is one of these places. They moved in there thirty daysafter this country went to war. Ordinarily, where the occupants of anapartment are under suspicion, we take the superintendent of thebuilding partly into our confidence and plant operatives in the house, or else we hire an apartment in the same building. In this case neithercourse is practicable. The superintendent of your building is aGerman-American and we dare not trust him, and there is no vacantapartment that we can rent. We have been watching the Hoffs from theoutside as best we could. Carter, who has had charge of the shadowing, accidentally happened to overhear you give your address. He had procureda list of the tenants and remembered the location of your apartment. Itstruck him at once that you would be a valuable ally if you wouldconsent to work with us. "

"What is it that you wish me to do?" asked Jane wonderingly. "You'llhave to tell me how to go about it. "

"All a good detective needs, " said Mr. Fleck, "is, let us say, threethings--observation, addition and common sense. You must observeeverything closely, be able to put two and two together and use yourcommon sense. Do you know the Hoffs by sight?"

"Only by sight. "

"They live in the next apartment on your floor, do they not?"

"Yes. Young Mr. Hoff's bedroom is the room next to mine. "

"Good, " cried Mr. Fleck. "Can you hear anything from the next apartment, any conversations?"

"No, only muffled sounds. "

"The windows overlook the river and the transports, do they not?"

"Yes, the windows of Mr. Hoff's bedroom and the room next. Theirapartment is a duplicate of ours. "

Mr. Fleck sprang up and crossed to the big safe. Opening an inner drawerhe took out a small metal disk and handed it to her. Jane looked at itcuriously. It bore no wording save the inscription "K-19. "

"That, " said Mr. Fleck, "is the only thing I can give you in the way ofcredentials. Keep it somewhere safely concealed about your clothing andnever exhibit it except in case of extreme necessity. If ever you are inperil any police officer will recognize it at once and will promptlygive you all the assistance possible. "

"But, " protested the girl, "I don't know yet what I am to do. "

"For the present I am trusting to your resourcefulness to makeopportunities to help us. We are watching the house closely from theoutside. Carter will identify you to the other operatives. Once a day Iwill expect you to call me up, not from your home but from a public'phone. Here is my number. Say 'this is Miss Jones speaking, ' and I willknow who it is. I can communicate with you by note without arousingsuspicion?"

"Oh, yes, certainly. "

"If at any time I have to call you on the 'phone, or if any of the otheroperatives want to communicate with you the password will be 'I amspeaking for Miss Jones. '"

"Isn't that exciting--a secret password, " cried Jane enthusiastically. 

"If you can manage it without compromising yourself too seriously, Iwish you would make the young man's acquaintance. "

"That will be simple, " said Jane, remembering the admiring way in whichhe had raised his cup in her direction as she left the hotel. 

"If possible find out who their visitors are in the apartment and keepyour eyes open for any sort of signalling to the transports. If everthere is an opportunity to get hold of notes or mail delivered to eitherof them, don't hesitate to steam it open and copy it. "

"Must I?" said Jane. "That hardly seems right or fair. "

"Of course it's right, " cried Mr. Fleck warmly. "Think of the lives ofour soldiers that are at stake. The devilish ingenuity of these Germanspies must be thwarted at all costs. They seem to be able to discoverevery detail of our plans. Only two days ago one of our transports wasthoroughly inspected from stem to stern. Two hours later twenty-sixhundred soldiers were put aboard her on their way to France. Just byaccident, as they were about to sail, a time-bomb was discovered in thecoal bunkers, a bomb that would have sent them all to kingdom come. "

"How terrible!"

"Somebody aboard is a traitor. Somebody knew when that inspection wasmade. Somebody put that bomb in place afterward. That shows you the kindof enemies we are fighting. "

Jane shuddered. She was thinking of the sailing of another transport, the one that had carried her brother to France. 

"Anything seems right after that, " she said simply. 

"Yes, " said Mr. Fleck, "there is only one effective way to fight thosespying devils. We must stop at nothing. They stop at nothing--not evenmurder--to gain their ends. "

"I know that, " said Jane hastily. "I saw something myself you ought toknow about. "

As briefly as she could she described the scene she had witnessed in theearly morning hours from her bedroom window, the man following theyounger Hoff, Hoff's discovery and pursuit of him around the corner andof his return alone. 

"And in the morning, " she concluded, "they found a man's body in theside street. He had a bullet through his heart. There was a revolver inhis hand. The newspapers said that the police and the coroner weresatisfied that it was a suicide. I caught a glimpse of Mr. Hoff's facewhen he came back from around that corner. It was all convulsed withhate, the most terrible expression I ever saw. I'm almost certain hemurdered that man. I'm sure it wasn't a suicide. "

"I'm sure, too, that it was no suicide, " said Mr. Fleck gravely. "Theman who was found there was one of my men, K-19, the man whose badge Ihave just given you. He had been detailed to shadow the Hoffs. "

CHAPTER IV

THE CLUE IN THE BOOK

Subway passengers sitting opposite Jane Strong as she rode up-town fromMr. Fleck's office, if they observed her at all--and most of themdid--saw only a slim, good-looking young girl, dressed in a chictailormade suit, crowned with a dashing Paris hat tilted at the properangle to display best the sheen of her black, black hair, which afterthe prevailing fashion was pulled forward becomingly over her ears. Outwardly Jane was unchanged, but within her nerves were all atingle atthe thought of the tremendous and fascinating responsibility sounexpectedly thrust upon her. Her mind, too, was aflame with patrioticardor, but coupled with these new sensations was a persisting sense ofdread, an intangible, unforgettable feeling of horror that kept croppingup every time her fingers touched the little metal disk in her purse. 

The man who had carried it yesterday, the other "K-19" who hadundertaken to shadow those people next door, now lay dead with a bulletthrough his heart. Was there, she wondered, a similar peril confrontingher? Would her life be in danger, too? Was that the reason Mr. Fleck hadtold her of her predecessor's fate--to warn her how desperate were themen against whom she was to match her wits? Yet no sense of fear thatprojected itself into her busy brain as she cogitated over the taskbefore her held her back. If anything she was rather thrilled at theprospect of meeting actual danger. What bothered her most was how shecould best go about aiding Mr. Fleck and his men in their work. 

Her opportunity came far more quickly than she had anticipated. She hadgotten off the train at the 96th Street station, purposing to walk thetwenty odd blocks to her home as she pondered over the work that layahead of her. Busy with a horde of struggling new thoughts she proceededalong Broadway, for once in her life unheeding the rich gowns andfeminine dainties so alluringly displayed in the shop windows. Suddenlyshe pulled herself together with a start. Directly ahead of her, plodding along in the same direction, was a figure that from behindseemed strangely familiar. She quickened her step until she caught upsufficiently with the man ahead to get a good glimpse of his side face. Nervously she caught her breath. Without any doubt it was the gray VanDyke beard of old Otto Hoff. 

Where was he going? What was he doing? She paused and looked behind her, scanning the pavement on both sides of the street. She was half-hopingthat she would discover Carter or some of his men shadowing theirquarry, but her hope was vain. There was no one in the block at themoment but herself and Mr. Hoff. If Fleck's men had been watching hismovements, the old man certainly seemed to have eluded them. 

What should she do? Vividly there flashed into her mind her chief'sparting words. 

"Watch everything, " he had charged her. "Remember everything, reporteverything. No detail is too unimportant. If you see one of the Hoffsleave the house, don't merely report to me that the old man or the youngman left the house about three o'clock. That won't do at all. I want toknow the exact time. Was it six minutes after three or eleven minutesafter three? I must know what direction he went, if he was alone, howlong he was absent, where he went, what he did, to whom he talked. Herein my office I take your reports, Carter's reports, a dozen otherreports, and study them together. Things that in themselves seemtrifling, unimportant, of no value, coupled with other seeminglyunimportant trifles sometimes develop most important evidence. "

To prove his point he had told her of the seemingly innocent wirelessmessage that an operator, listening in, had picked up, at a time whenGermans were still permitted to use the wireless station on Long Islandfor commercial messages to the Fatherland. On the face of it, it was themere announcement of the death of a relative with a few details. But alittle later the same operator caught the same message coming fromanother part of the country, with the details slightly different, andstill later another message of the same purport. Evidently, by comparingthe messages, the United States authorities had been able to work outa code. 

Remembering this, Jane decided that it was her particular duty just nowto follow the old German and note everything he did. For several blocksshe trailed along behind him, without arousing any suspicion on his partthat he was being followed. He stopped once to light a cigarette, thegirl behind him diverting suspicion by hastily turning to a shop window. Again he stopped, this time before the display of viands in the windowof a delicatessen store. Thoughtfully Jane noted the number, observing, too, that the name of the proprietor above the door was obviouslyTeutonic. She was half-expecting to see her quarry turn in here, but hewalked on to the middle of the next block, where he entered astationery store. 

Hesitating but a second, to decide on a course of action, she followedhim boldly into the store. She felt that she must ascertain just what hewas doing in there. As she entered she saw that in the back part of thestore was a lending library. Mr. Hoff had gone back to it and wasinspecting the books displayed there. Unhesitatingly she, too, approached the book counter. 

"Have you 'Limehouse Nights'?" she asked the attendant, naming thefirst book that came into her head. She had a copy of the book at home, but that seemed to be the only title she could think of. 

"We have several copies, " the girl in charge answered, "but I think theyare all out. I'll look. "

As the clerk examined the shelves, Jane kept up a desultory talk withher, questioning her about various books on the shelves, all the whilewatching the old German out of the corner of her eye. His back wastoward her, and he seemed to be examining various books on the shelves, turning over the pages as if unable to decide what he wanted. Curious asto what his taste in reading was, Jane endeavored to locate each bookthat he removed from its place, her idea being that she would later tryto discover their titles. To her amazement she found that it wasinvariably the third book in each shelf that he removed andexamined--the third from the end. It did not appear to her that he wasexamining the contents of the pages so much as searching them as if heexpected to find something there. 

All at once, as she furtively watched from behind him, she heard himgive a little pleased grunt and she saw him picking out from between theleaves of the book a fragment of paper, which he held concealed in hishand. Watching closely, Jane saw him thrust this same hand into histrousers pocket, and when he brought it out she was certain that thehand was empty. What did this curious performance mean? What was thelittle slip of paper he had found in the book? Why had he concealed itin his pocket?

Still keeping her attention riveted on him, she picked up a book to maskher occupation and pretended to be turning its pages. She was glad shehad done so, for a minute later old Hoff wheeled suddenly and lookedsharply about him. Apparently having his suspicions disarmed by seeingonly herself and the clerk there, he turned again to the bookshelves. Jane this time saw him thrust his fingers into his waistcoat pocket andwithdraw therefrom, --she was almost certain of it, --a little slip ofpaper. She saw him remove from the second row of books the fifth fromthe end, open it quickly and close it again and then restore it to itsplace. As he did so he turned to leave the store. 

"Didn't you find anything to read to-day, Mr. Hoff?" the clerk asked. 

"Nodding, " he answered. "You keep novels, trash, nodding worth while. "

Her nerves aquiver, Jane waited until he was out of the store and thenstepped briskly to the place where he had stood. Hastily she pulledforth the fifth book from the end in the second row. Turning its pagesshe came upon what she had anticipated, --a strip of yellow manilapaper, --the paper she was sure she had seen him take from his pocket. Hastily she examined it, expecting to find some message written there. To her chagrin it was just a meaningless jumble of figures inthree columns. 

 534 5 2 331 54 6 644 76 3 49 12 9 540 30 12 390 3 2 519 3 6 327 20 2

 97

Her first thought was to thrust the little scrap of paper in her purseand start again in pursuit of old Hoff, but a sudden light began to dawnon her. This was a cipher message, of course. The old man had left ithere for some one to come and get. If she followed Hoff, how was she todiscover who the message was for? Puzzled as to what she should do, sheborrowed a pencil from the clerk on the pretense of writing a postal andhastily copied the figures, after which she restored the slip to thebook in which she had found it. 

Glancing about undecidedly, wondering if it would do to take the clerkinto her confidence, wishing she had some means of reaching Mr. Fleckand asking his advice, she spied in a drug-store just across the streeta telephone booth. She could telephone from there and at the same timekeep her eye on the store. Quickly she did so, twisting her head aroundall the time she was 'phoning to make sure that no one entered opposite. 

"Is this Mr. Fleck?" she asked. "This is Miss Jones. "

"So soon?" came back his voice. "What has happened? What is the matter?Have you changed your mind?"

"Not at all, " she answered indignantly. "I've discovered somethingalready--a cipher message. "

"What's that?"

Even over the wire she could sense the eagerness in Mr. Fleck's tone, and a sense of achievement brought a radiant glow to her cheek. 

"I ran into that man--you know whom--"

"The young one?" he interrupted. 

"No, the uncle. "

"Yes, yes, go on, " cried Mr. Fleck impatiently. 

"I followed him along Broadway after I got off at 96th Street and into alibrary and stationery store. I watched him fuss over the books there, and I think he got a slip of paper with a message out of one of them. "

"Good, " cried Mr. Fleck, "that is something new. Go on. "

"And then he slipped a paper into a book--"

"Did you notice what book?"

"I don't know the title. It was the fifth book from the end on thesecond shelf, and I got the paper and copied it. "

"Splendid. What did the message say?"

"It's just a lot of figures. I put it back after copying it, and I am ina drug-store across the street where I can watch to see if any one comesto get the message. What shall I do now?"

"Can you remain there fifteen minutes without arousing suspicion?"

"Certainly. I'll say I am waiting for some one. "

"Good. I'll get in touch with Carter at once. He'll tell you what to dowhen he arrives. "

Impatiently Jane sat there, keeping vigilant watch on the entranceacross the street, determined to be able to describe minutely eachperson that entered. From time to time she surreptitiously studied thepostcard on which she had jotted down the mysterious numbers. Howutterly meaningless they looked. Surely it would be impossible for anyone, even Mr. Fleck, to decipher any message that these figures mightconvey. It would be impossible unless one had the key. Figures could bemade to mean anything at all. She doubted if her discovery could be ofmuch importance after all, yet certainly Mr. Fleck had seemed quiteexcited about it. 

She spied Carter passing in a taxi. Two other men were with him. Herfirst impulse was to run out in the street and signal to him, but shewaited, wondering what she should do. She was glad she had not actedimpulsively, for a moment later Carter entered alone, evidently havingleft the car somewhere around the corner. She expected that he wouldaddress her at once, but that was not Carter's way. He went to the sodacounter and ordered something to drink, his eyes all the while studyinghis surroundings. Presently he pretended to discover her sitting there. To all appearances it might have been an entirely casual meeting ofacquaintances. 

"Good-morning, Miss Jones, " he said quite cordially, extending his hand. "I'm lucky to have met you, for my daughter gave me a message for you. "

He put just a little stress on the words "my daughter" and Janeunderstood that he was referring to "Mr. Fleck. "

"Indeed, " she replied, "what is it?"

"She wants you to go down-town at once and meet her at Room 708--youknow the building. "

"Aren't you coming, too?"

"Not right away. I have some errands to do in the neighborhood. I've gotto buy a book for a birthday present. There's a library around heresomewhere, isn't there?"

"Just across the street, " said Jane, entering into the spirit of themasked conversation with interest. "I was looking at a fine book overthere a few minutes ago. You'll find it on the second shelf--the fifthbook from the end, on the north side of the store. "

"I'll remember that, " said Carter, repeating, "the fifth book on thesecond shelf. "

"That's right, " said Jane, as they left the drug-store together. 

"Which way did the old man go?" asked Carter. 

"Down Broadway--toward home, " she replied. "I wanted to follow him, butit seemed more important to stay here and watch to see if any one camefor the message he left there in the book. "

"You did just right, and the Chief is tickled to death. He wants to seeyou right away. You have a copy of the message, haven't you?"

"Yes, do you wish to see it?"

"No, but he does. Has anybody entered the store since you were there?"

"Nobody, that is no one but a couple of girls. "

"What did they look like? Describe them. "

"Why, " Jane faltered, "I did not really notice. I was not looking forgirls. I was watching to see that no other men entered the store. "

Carter shook his head. 

"You ought to have spotted them, too. You never can tell who the Germanswill employ. They have women spies, too, --clever ones. "

"I never thought of their using girls, " protested Jane. 

"Humph, " snapped Carter, "ain't we using you? Ain't one of our bestlittle operatives right this minute working in a nursegirl's garbpulling a baby carriage with a baby in it up and down Riverside Drive?Well, it can't be helped. You'd better beat it down-town to the Chiefright away. "

"I'll take a subway express, " said Jane, feeling somewhat crestfallenat his implied suggestion of failure. 

Twenty-five minutes later found her once more in Mr. Fleck's office. Thrilling with the excitement of it all she told him in detail how shehad followed old Hoff and of his peculiar actions in the bookstore. 

"And here, " she said, presenting the postcard, "is an exact copy of thecipher message he left there. I copied every figure, in the columns, just as they were set down. I don't suppose though you'll be able tomake head or tail out of it. I know I can't. "

"Don't be too sure of that, " smiled Chief Fleck, as he took the card. "When you get used to codes, most of them identify themselves at thefirst glance--at least they tell what kind of a code it is. That's onething about the Germans that makes their spy work clumsy at times. Theyare so methodical that they commit everything to writing. Now the mostimportant things I know are right in here"--he tapped his head. "Everyonce in a while they ransack my rooms, but they never find anythingworth while. Now this code"--he was studying the card intently--"seemsto be one of a sort that our friends from Wilhelmstrasse areridiculously fond of using. It is manifestly a book code. "

"A book code, " Jane repeated perplexedly. "I don't understand. "

"It is very simple when two persons who wish to communicate with eachother secretly both have a copy of some book they have agreed to use. They write their message out and then go through the book locating thewords of the message by page, line and word. That's what the threecolumns mean. Our only problem is to discover which is the book theyboth have. They often employ the Bible or a dictionary or--"

He stopped abruptly and studied the columns of figures. 

"This code, " he went on, "on its face is from a book that has at least544 pages. One of the pages has at least 76 lines--that's the middlecolumn--so the book must be set in small type. "

"What book do you suppose it is?" asked Jane interestedly. She was gladnow that she had listened to Carter. She was sure she was going to likebeing in the service. It was all so interesting, and she was learning somany fascinating things. 

"If my theory is right those letters indicate that the book used was analmanac. That's the book that Wilhelmstrasse made use of when a wirelessmessage was sent in cipher to the German ambassador directing him towarn Americans not to sail on the Lusitania. They betrayed themselves atthe Embassy by sending out to buy a copy of this almanac. Let's see howour theory works out. "

Taking up an almanac that lay on his desk he began turning to the pagesindicated in the first column of figures, checking off the linesindicated in the second column and putting a ring around the wordsmarked by the third column of figures. 

"Let's see--page 534--fifth line--second word--that's (eight). Nowthen--page 331--that's the chronology of the war in the almanac, so Iguess we are on the right track--fifty-fourth line--sixthword--(transport). "

"Isn't it wonderful!" cried Jane. 

"Damn them, " he exploded. "I know we are on the right track. Sometransports with our troops sailed this morning, and already the Germanspies are spreading the news, hoping to get it to one of theirunspeakable U-boats. "

Quickly he ran through the rest of the cipher, writing it out as he wentalong:

EIGHT--TRANSPORT--SAILED--THURSDAY--15, 000--INFANTRY--FIVE DESTROYERS. 

As Fleck finished the message his face became almost black with rage. 

"Damn them, " he cried again, "in spite of everything we do they gettrack of all our troop movements. Their information, whenever we succeedin intercepting it, is always accurate. If I had my way I'd lock upevery German in the country until the war was over, and I'd shoot a lotof those I locked up. Until the whole country realizes that we areliving in a nest of spies--that there are German spies all around us, inevery city, in every factory, in every regiment, on every ship, everywhere right next door to us--this country never can win the war. "

"What does the '97' at the end mean?" questioned Jane timidly, a littlebit frightened at his outburst, yet more than ever realizing the vastimportance of his work--and hers. 

"Oh, that's nothing. Probably old Hoff's number. Most spies are knownjust by numbers. "

"Yes, of course, " said Jane, flushing as she recalled that she herselfwas now "K-19. " Was she a spy? Was Mr. Fleck a chief of spies? Shealways had looked on a spy as a despicable sort of person, yet surelythe work in which they both were engaged was vital to American successat arms--a patriotic and important service for one's country. 

"I suppose, " she said thoughtfully, unwilling to pursue the chain of herown thought any further, "that there is evidence enough now to arrestold Mr. Hoff right away. "

"You bet there is, " said Mr. Fleck emphatically, "but that is the lastthing I am thinking of doing yet. He is only one link in a great chainthat extends from our battleships and transports there in the NorthRiver clear into the heart of Berlin. We've got to locate both ends ofthe chain before we start smashing the links. We've got to find who itis in this country that is supplying the money for all their nefariouswork, from whom they get their orders, how they smuggle their news out. Most of all we have got to find where the end of the chain is fastenedin our own navy. The traitors there are the black-hearted rascals Iwould most like to get. They are the ones we've got to get. "

"Yes, indeed, " assented Jane, suddenly recalling the navy lieutenant shehad seen in the Ritz chatting so confidentially with old Otto Hoff'snephew. Was he, she wondered, one of the links in the terrible chain?Was he the end--the American end of the chain?

"We're certain about the old man now, " said Fleck, rising as if toindicate that the interview was at an end. "We've got to get the youngfellow next. There is nothing in this to implicate him. That's your job. Find out all you can about him. Get acquainted with him, if possible. That's one of the weakest spots about all German spies. They can't helpboasting to women. Try to get to know this Fred Hoff. It's mostimportant. "

"I'll do more than try, " said Jane spiritedly. "I'll get acquaintedright away. I'll make him talk to me. "

CHAPTER V

ON THE TRAIL

Few men, even fathers, realize how utterly inexperienced is the averagewell-brought-up girl, just emerged from her teens, in the affairs of thegreat mysterious world that lies about her. A boy, in his youth livingover again the history of his progenitors, escapes his nurse to becomean adventurer. At ten he is a pirate, at twelve a train robber, atfourteen an aviator, actually living in all his thoughts and experiencesthe life of his hero of the moment, learning all the while that theworld about him is full of adventurers like himself, ready to disputehis claims at the slightest pretext, or to carry off his booty byprevailing physical force. 

Well-brought-up girls seldom are fortunate enough to have such educativeexperiences. Their friends are selected for them, gentle untaughtcreatures like themselves. Few of them learn much of the practical sideof life. A boy is delighted at knowing the toughest boy in theneighborhood. A girl's ambitions always are to know girls "nicer" thanshe is. The average girl emerges into womanhood with her eyes blinded, uninformed on the affairs of life, business, politics, untrained inanything useful or practical, knowing more of romance and history thanshe does of present-day facts. 

If Chief Fleck had understood how really inexperienced Jane Strongactually was, it is a question whether he would have ventured to entrustso important a mission to her as he had done. Jane herself, as she lefthis office, aroused by his revelations of the treacherous work ofGermany's spies, and uplifted by his appeal to her patriotism, feltenthusiastically capable of obeying his instructions. It seemed verysimple, as he had talked about it. All she had to do was to getacquainted with the young man next door. Yet the further the subwaycarried her from Mr. Fleck's office after her second visit there thatmorning, the more her heart sank within her, and the fuller her mindbecame of misgivings. 

In a big city next door in an apartment house is almost the same thingas miles away. She ransacked her brain, trying to remember someacquaintance who might be likely to know the Hoffs, but failed utterlyto recall any one. She reviewed all possible means of getting acquaintedbut could find none that seemed practical. Never in her life had shespoken to a man without having been introduced to him--except of courseto Carter and Mr. Fleck, and these men, she told herself, weregovernment officials, something like policemen, only nicer. At any rate, she knew them only in a business way, not socially. If she was to besuccessful in learning much about the Hoffs--about young Mr. Hoff--shefelt that it was necessary to make them social acquaintances. 

She must manage to meet Frederic Hoff in some proper way, but how? Shethought of such flimsy tricks as dropping a handkerchief or a purse inthe elevator some time when he happened to be in it, but rejected theplan as disadvantageous. "Nice" girls did not do that sort of thing, andeven though she was seeking to entrap her neighbor she did not for amoment wish him to consider her as belonging to the other sort. Itrather annoyed her to find that she cared what kind of an impression shemade on him. What difference did it make what a German spy thought ofher, especially a murderer? Yet, she argued with herself, the better theimpression she made at first the more likely she would be to gain hisconfidence, and that she knew would delight Mr. Fleck. Was FredericHoff, too, really, she wondered, a spy? Her face colored as she recalledthe mental picture she last had had of him, gallantly and admiringlyraising his cup to her as she left the Ritz, not obtrusively orimpudently, but so subtly that she was sure that no one had observed itbut herself. It seemed preposterous to associate the thought of murderwith a man like him. 

As she entered the apartment house she was arguing still with herselfabout him. Her intuition told her that Frederic Hoff was a gentleman, and how could a gentleman be what Mr. Fleck seemed to think he was? Asthe door swung to behind her she gave a little quick breath of delight, for she had caught sight of a uniformed figure standing by theswitchboard. She had recognized him at once. It was the navallieutenant who had been at the Ritz. She heard him saying to the girl atthe switchboard:

"Tell Mr. Hoff, young Mr. Hoff, that Lieutenant Kramer is here. I'llwait for him down-stairs. "

Quick as a flash a course of action came into her mind. She saw anopportunity too good to be neglected. She hurried forward to where thelieutenant was standing, her hand outstretched, with a smile ofrecognition--feigned, but well-feigned--on her lips. 

"Why, Lieutenant Kramer, " she cried, "how delightful. Have you reallykept your promise at last and come to see the Strongs?"

She could hardly restrain her amusement as she watched the embarrassedyoung officer strive in vain to recall where it was that he had met her. She had relied on the fact that the men in the navy meet so many girlsat social functions that it is impossible for any of them to rememberall they had met. 

"Really, Miss--" he stammered, struggling for some fitting explanation. 

"Don't tell me, " she warned reprovingly, "that it isn't Jane Strongthat you are here to see, after all those nice things you said to methat day we had tea aboard your ship. "

She was hoping he would not insist on going into particulars as to whichship it was. Fortunately she had been to functions on several of the warvessels, so that she might find a loop-hole if he was too insistenton details. 

"Indeed, Miss Strong, " said Kramer, gallantly pretending to recall her, "I'm delighted to see you again. I've been intending to come to see youfor ever so long, but you understand how busy we are now. In fact, itwas business that brought me here to-day. I'm calling on Mr. Hoff, wholives here, to take him to lunch to discuss some important matters. "

At his last phrase Jane's heart thrilled. What important matters couldthere be that a navy lieutenant could fittingly discuss with a German, with the nephew of the man whose secret code message they had justsucceeded in reading? Determining within herself to keep fast hold onthe beginning she had made, she masked her real thoughts and let herface express frank disappointment. 

"How horrid of you, " she continued, "when I was just going to insistthat you stay and have luncheon with us. "

He was protesting that it was quite out of the question when theelevator brought down her mother, whom Jane at once summoned as an ally, feeling sure that considering how many men of her daughter'sacquaintance she had met, it would be perfectly safe to keep up thedeception. 

"Oh, mother, " she cried, "you remember Lieutenant Kramer, don't you?I've just been urging him to stay and have luncheon with us. Do help mepersuade him. "

"Of course I remember Mr. Kramer, " fibbed the matron cordially, allunaware of her daughter's duplicity. "Do stay, Mr. Kramer, and haveluncheon with Jane. I ordered luncheon for four, expecting to be home, and now I've been called away, but your aunt is there to chaperone you. It spoils the servants so to prepare meals and have no one to eat them, to say nothing of displeasing Mr. Hoover. It's really your duty--yourduty as a patriot--to stay and prevent a food-waste. "

"I've just been trying to explain to your daughter that I was takingMr. Hoff to luncheon with me. Here he is now. "

Mrs. Strong's eyes swept the tall figure approaching appraisingly andapparently was pleased with his aspect. As Mr. Hoff was presented shehastened to include him in the invitation to luncheon. 

"Have pity on a poor girl doomed to eat a lonely luncheon by herparent's neglect, " urged Jane. "Really, you must come, both of you. Nicemen to talk to are so scarce in these war times that I have no intentionof letting you escape. "

"I'm in Kramer's hands, " said Frederic Hoff gallantly, "but if he takesme to some wretched hotel instead of accepting such a charminginvitation as this, my opinion of him as a host will be shattered. "

"But, " struggled Kramer, realizing that it must be a case of mistakenidentity and sure now that he never had met either Jane or her motherbefore, "we have some business to talk over. "

"Business always can wait a fair lady's pleasure, " said Hoff. "Is thisruthless war making you navy men ungallant?"

With a mock gesture of surrender, and as a matter of fact, not at allaverse to pursuing the adventure further, Lieutenant Kramer permittedJane to lead the way to the Strong apartment. 

Soon, with the familiarity of youth and high spirits, the three of themwere merrily chatting on the weather, the war, the theater and allmanner of things. Jane, in the midst of the conversation, could not helpnoting that Hoff had seated himself in a chair by the window where heseemed to be keeping a vigilant eye on the ships that could be seen fromthere. Even at the luncheon table he got up once and walked to thewindow to look out, making some clumsy excuse about the beautiful view. 

Determined to press the opportunity, Jane endeavored to turn theconversation into personal channels. 

"You are an American, " she said turning to Hoff, "are you not? I'msurprised that you are not in uniform, too. "

"A man does not necessarily need to be in uniform to be serving hisgovernment, " he replied. "Perhaps I am doing something more important. "

"But you are an American, aren't you?" she persisted almost impudently, driven on by her eagerness to learn all she possibly could about him. 

"I was born in Cincinnati, " he replied hesitantly. 

She could not help observing how diplomatically he had parried both herquestions. Mentally she recorded his exact words with the idea in hermind of repeating what he had said verbatim to her chief. 

"Then you _are_ doing work for the government?"

Intensely she waited for his answer. Surely he could find no way ofevading such a direct inquiry as this. 

"Every man who believes in his own country, " he answered, modestlyenough, yet with a curious reservation that puzzled her, "in times likethese is doing his bit. "

She felt far from satisfied. If he was born in America, if he really wasan American at heart, his replies would have been reassuring, but hisname was Hoff. His uncle was a German-American, a proved spy or at leasta messenger for spies. If her guest still considered Prussia hisfatherland the answers he had made would fit equally well. 

"You're just as provokingly secretive as these navy men, " she tauntedhim. "When I try to find out now where any of my friends in the navy arestationed they won't tell me a thing, will they, Mr. Kramer?"

"I'll tell you where they all are, " said Lieutenant Kramer. "Everyletter I've had from abroad recently from chaps in the service has hadthe same address--'A deleted port. '"

"I really think the government is far too strict about it, " shecontinued. "My only brother is over there now fighting. All we know isthat he is 'Somewhere in France. ' War makes it hard on all of us. "

"Yet after all, " said Hoff soberly, "what are our hardships herecompared to what people are suffering over there, in France, in Belgium, in Germany, even in the neutral countries. They know over there, theyhave known for three years, greater horrors than we can imagine. "

The longer she chatted with him, the more puzzled Jane became. Heseemed to speak with sincerity and feeling. Her intuition told her thathe was a man of honor and high ideals, and yet in everything he saidthere was always reserve, hesitation, caution, as if he weighed everyword before uttering it. Intently she listened, hoping to catch someintonation, some awkward arrangement of words that might betray histongue for German, but the English he spoke was perfect--not the Englishof the United States nor yet of England, but rather the manner of speechthat one hears from the world-traveler. Question after question she put, hoping to trap him into some admission, but skilfully he eluded herefforts. She decided at last to try more direct tactics. 

"Your name has a German sound. It is German, isn't it?" she asked. 

"I told you I was born in Cincinnati, " he answered laughingly. "Somepeople insist that that is a German province. "

"But you have been in Germany, haven't you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you had not lived in that country?"

"I could not well have been there without having lived there, could I?"

Kramer came to her rescue. 

"Of course he has lived there. Mr. Hoff and I both attended Germanuniversities. That was what brought us together at the start--ourcommon bond. "

"Did you attend the same university?" asked Jane. She felt that at lastshe was on the point of finding out something worth while. 

"No, " said Kramer, "unfortunately it was not the same university. "

She caught her breath and blushed guiltily. If Mr. Kramer had attended aGerman university he could not be an Annapolis graduate. He must be arecent comer in the American navy. She knew that since the war begansome civilians had been admitted. It had just dawned on her that if thiswas the case, since visiting on board ships was no longer permitted, itclearly was impossible for her to have met him at any function on awarship. He must have known all along that she knew she never had methim. He must have been aware, too, that her mother did not know him. She felt that she was getting into perilous waters and fearful of makingmore blunders refrained from further questions. A vague alarm began toagitate her. If he had detected her ruse when she first had spoken tohim, why had he not admitted it? What had been his purpose in acceptingher invitation and in bringing into it his German friend, Mr. Hoff?

The ringing of the telephone bell came as a welcome interruption. A maidsummoned her to answer a call, and excusing herself from the table shewent to the 'phone desk in the foyer. 

"Hello, is this you, Miss Strong?"

It was Carter's voice, but from the anxious stress in it she judged thathe was in a state of great perturbation. 

"Yes, it is Jane Strong speaking, " she answered. 

"You know who this is?"

"Of course. I recognize your voice. It's Mr. C--"

A warning "sst" over the 'phone checked her before she pronounced thename and starting guiltily she turned to look over her shoulder, feeling relieved to see the two men still chatting at the table, apparently paying no attention to her. 

"I understand, " she answered quickly. "What is it?"

"You know that book I told you I was going to buy?"

"Yes, yes!"

"It's not there. "

"What's that? The book is gone!"

"The book is there all right, but it's not the book I want. "

"Are you sure, " she questioned, "that you looked at the right book?"

"I looked at the one you told me to. "

"Are you certain--the fifth book on the second shelf. "

She heard a movement behind her and turning quickly saw Frederic Hoffstanding behind her, his hat and stick in hand. Panic-stricken, she hungup the receiver abruptly. Had he been standing there listening? How muchhad he heard? He would know, of course, what "the fifth book on thesecond shelf" signified. Had her carelessness betrayed to him the factthat he and his uncle were being closely watched? Anxiously she studiedhis face for some intimation of his thoughts. He was standing theresmiling at her, and to her agitated brain it seemed that in his smilethere was something sardonic, defying, challenging. 

"I cannot tell you, Miss Strong, how much I have enjoyed yourhospitality. You made the time so interesting that I had no idea it wasso late. You will excuse me if I tear myself away at once. I have someimportant business that demands my immediate attention. "

"I hope you'll come again, " she managed to stammer, "and you, too, Mr. Kramer. "

White-faced and terrified she escorted them out, leaving the telephonebell jangling angrily. As the door closed behind them, she sank weak andfaint into a chair, not daring yet to go again to the 'phone until shewas sure they were out of hearing. 

What was the "immediate business" that was calling them away sosuddenly? She was more than afraid that her incautious use of the phrase"the fifth book on the second shelf" had betrayed her. What else couldit mean? Why else would they have departed so abruptly?

Mustering up her strength and courage she went once more to the 'phone. 

"Hello, hello, is that you, Miss Strong? Some one cut us off, " Carter'svoice was impatiently saying. 

"Hello, Mr. Carter, " she called, "this is Jane Strong speaking. Wherecan I see you at once? It's most important. "

"I'll be sitting on a bench along the Drive two blocks north of yourhouse inside of ten minutes. "

"I'll meet you there, " she answered quickly, with a feeling of relief. 

The situation was becoming far too complicated, she felt, for her tohandle alone. Carter would know what to do. If Hoff and Kramer hadlearned from her about the trailing of old Hoff, the sooner it wasreported to more experienced operatives than she was the better. 

"Don't speak to me when you see me sitting on the bench, " warned Carter. "Just sit down there beside me and wait till I make sure no one iswatching us. I'll speak to you when it's safe. "

"I understand, " she answered. "Good-by. "

As she hastened to don her hat and coat she was almost overwhelmed by arevulsion of feeling. Two days ago the world about her had seemed acarefree, pleasant, even if sometimes boresome place. Now sheshudderingly saw it stripped of its mask and revealed for the first timein all its hideousness, a place of murders and spying and secretmachinations. People about her were no longer more or less interestingpuppets in a play-world. They were vivid actualities, scheming andplanning to thwart and overcome each other. Almost she wished that herdream had been undisturbed and that she had not been waked up to therealities. Almost she was tempted to abandon her new-found occupation. 

Then, once more, a feeling of patriotic fervor swept over her. Shethought of her brother fighting somewhere in the trenches. She picturedto herself the other brave soldiers in the great ships in the Hudson. She remembered the evil plotters with their death-dealing bombs, striving to bring about a ghastly end for them all before they mightstrengthen the lines of the Allies. She thought, too, of thosehumanity-defying U-boats, forever at their devilish work, guided totheir prey by crafty, spying creatures right here in New York, more thanlikely by the very people next door. 

With her pretty lips set in a resolute line she left the house andwalked rapidly north. Come what may she would go on with it. Her countryneeded her, and that was all-sufficient. 

CHAPTER VI

THE MISSING MESSAGE

After Jane left Carter at the drug-store, he did not cross immediatelyto the bookshop opposite. His detective work was not of that sort. Hestrolled leisurely around the corner long enough to give some directionsto his two aides waiting there and then, moving across the street, paused in front of the window of books as if something there hadattracted his attention. All the while he was keeping a sharp eye forany person who looked as if they might be connected in any way with oldHoff. Satisfied that his entrance was unobserved he strolled casually inand began looking over the volumes in the lending library. The loneclerk in the store--a young woman--at first volunteered somesuggestions, but as they went unheeded she returned to her work ofposting up the accounts. 

As soon as her attention was occupied Carter moved at once to the endof the shelf that Miss Strong had indicated and removed the fifth book. To his amazement he found nothing whatever concealed between the leaves. The books on either side on the same shelf failed to yield up anything. He tried the shelf above and the shelf below. Perhaps Miss Strong hadbeen mistaken in the directions. He examined the books at the other end. There was nothing there. He recalled that the girl had said that no oneexcept two girls had entered the store between the time she haddiscovered and copied the cipher and the time of his arrival. If thesegirls had not taken the message away there could be only one otherexplanation--the clerk in the bookstore must have removed it andconcealed it somewhere. 

"Which of the war books do you think the best?" he asked for the purposeof starting a conversation. 

"There's that many it is hard to say, sir, " the young woman answered. 

Something in her inflection made him look sharply at her. Her accentsurely was English, or possibly Canadian. A few judicious questionsquickly brought out the information that she came from Liverpool andthat she had three brothers in the British army. Carter decided that itwas preposterous to suspect her of being in league with German agents. There was only one other thing that could have happened. Some oneelse--some one who had eluded Miss Strong's notice--had removed thecipher message. 

Promptly he had telephoned to her to meet him. He was glad that he haddone so, for her evident perturbation as she answered the 'phone bothinterested and puzzled him. Pausing just long enough to report to ChiefFleck, he hastened to the rendezvous, arriving there first. He selecteda bench apart from the others, where the wall jutted out from the walk, and seating himself, idled there as if merely watching the river. Inobedience with his instructions Jane, when she arrived, planted herselfnonchalantly on the same bench, and paying no attention to him, pretended to be reading a letter. 

Presently Carter rose and stretching himself lazily, as if about toleave, turned to face the Drive, his keen eyes taking in all thepassers-by. Apparently satisfied, he sat down abruptly and turned tospeak to the girl beside him. 

"All right, K-19, " he said, "it's safe. Now we can talk. "

"I've got such a lot to tell, " cried Jane. 

"First, " said Carter, "just where did you put that cipher message whenyou put it back?"

"What!" cried the girl, her face blanching, "wasn't it there? Didn't youfind it?"

Carter shook his head. 

"It must be there, " she insisted. "Are you sure you looked in the rightbook--the fifth book from the end on the second shelf on the up-townside of the store. "

"It's not there. I examined every book there, on the shelves above andbelow and at the other end, too. "

"The clerk in the store, that girl--must have hidden it, " cried Janewith conviction. 

"That's not likely. She's an English girl--from Liverpool. She has threebrothers fighting on the Allies' side. We can leave her out of it. "

"Who else could have taken it?"

"There's only one answer, " said Carter slowly and impressively. "Someone went into that store between the time you copied the message andthe time I met you at the drug-store. You told me no one but a couple ofgirls had entered. Was there any one else? Think--think!"

"There was no one, " said Jane thoughtfully, "no one except the two girlstogether. I never thought of suspecting them. "

"What did they look like? Could you identify them?"

"I did not notice them particularly, " Jane confessed. "I was expectingMr. Hoff's confederate to be a man. "

"They're using a lot of women spies, " asserted Carter. "Don't youremember what the girls looked like?"

"One of them, " said Jane thoughtfully, "wore an odd-shaped hat, a sortof a tam with a red feather. "

"Would you know the hat again if you saw it?"

"I think--I'm sure I would. "

"Well, that's something. Watch for that hat, and if you ever see itagain trail the girl till you find out where she lives. If you locateher telephone Mr. Fleck at once. And now, what has happened to you?"

"I've so much to tell, important, very important, I think. "

She hesitated, wondering how much Carter was in the chief's confidence. Did he know the import of the cipher message she had discovered? Oughtshe to talk freely to him?

"Do you know what those numbers meant?" she asked. 

"Yes, " he replied, "about the eight transports sailing. The Chief toldme about it. "

"Well, " she said, with a sigh of relief, "I have become acquainted withyoung Mr. Hoff already. I've just had luncheon with him. "

"That's fine, " he cried enthusiastically. "A lucky day it was I ranacross you. "

"When you 'phoned me he was there in our apartment, he and a navylieutenant, Mr. Kramer. "

Attentively he listened as she told of the ruse by which she hadinveigled them into coming to luncheon, reminding him that it was thesame naval officer that he himself had seen in close conversation withHoff at the Ritz the day before. He nodded his head in a satisfied way. 

"They are together too much to be up to any good, " he commented. "Tellme the rest. What made you so rattled when I 'phoned you?"

He listened intently as she told of finding young Hoff standing rightbehind her as she had inadvertently mentioned aloud "the fifth book. "

"Do you suppose, " she questioned anxiously, "that he overheard me andunderstood what we were talking about? He left right away after that. Ido hope I didn't betray the fact that they are being watched. "

"We can't tell yet, " said Carter. "The precautions they take and theroundabout methods they have of communicating with each other show thatall Germany's spies constantly act as if they knew they were undersurveillance. In fact, I suppose every German in this country, whetherhe is a spy or not, can't help but notice that his neighbors arewatching him--and well they might. "

"I don't see why, " cried Jane, "Mr. Fleck did not have old Mr. Hofflocked up right away. He could not do any more damage then, or besending any more messages about our transports. "

"That wouldn't have done the least bit of good, " said Carter decisively. "Watching our transports sail and spreading the news is only one of manyof their activities. Somewhere in this country there is a master-councilof German plotters, directing the secret movements of many hundreds, perhaps many thousands of spies and secret agents. They have their workwell mapped out. They have men fomenting strikes in the governmentshipyards and stirring up all kinds of labor troubles. Others are busymaking bombs and contriving diabolical methods of crippling themachinery in munition plants. A flourishing trade in false passports isbeing carried on, enabling their spies to travel back and forth acrossthe Atlantic in the guise of American business men, ambulance drivers, Red Cross workers and what not. Still others of their agents aredetailed to arrange for the shipping of the supplies Germany needs toneutral countries. By watching shipping closely they gather information, too, that is of value to the U-boat commanders. Every time there is anysort of activity against the draft, or peace meetings, or Irishagitation, we find traces of German handiwork. We have dismantled andsealed up every wireless plant we could find in America except thoseunder direct government control, yet we are positive that every daywireless messages go from this country somewhere--perhaps to Mexico orSouth America, and from there are relayed to Germany, probably by way ofSpain. Think of the enormous amount of money required to finance theseoperations and keep all these spies under pay. While we try to thwarttheir plans as we find them, all our efforts are constantly directedtoward discovering who controls and finances their damnable system. Weseldom if ever arrest any of the spies we track down, but keep watching, watching, watching, hoping that sooner or later the master-spy will bebetrayed into our hands. "

"You don't think then, " said Jane disappointedly, "that old Mr. Hoff isone of the important spies. "

"We can't tell yet. He may be just one of the cogs--perhaps what theycall a control-agent. We don't know yet. Germany has been building upher spy system forty years, and it is ingenious beyond imagination. Hercodes are the most difficult in the world. It took the French threeyears and a half to decipher a code despatch from Von Bethmann Hollwegto Baron von Schoen. By the time they had it deciphered in Paris theGermans had discovered what they were doing and had changed the code. Itis seldom any one of the German spies knows much about the work thatother spies are doing. The rank and file merely get orders to go and dosuch a thing, or find out about such a thing. Often they are not toldwhat they are doing it for. They obey their orders implicitly in detailand make their reports, get new orders and go on to do something else. Only their master spy-council here knows what the summary of theirefforts amounts to. Arresting old Hoff, or a dozen more like him, wouldnot cripple them much. Other men would be assigned in their places, andthe nefarious work would go on. "

"I don't know, " insisted Jane thoughtfully. "I believe that old Mr. Hoffis a far bigger spoke in the wheel than you think. I watched his face asI followed him this morning. He is a man of great intelligence, and Ishould judge a man of education. "

"They'd hardly be using a man of that sort to carry messages, " objectedCarter. "Maybe you're right. We have not watched him long enough to findout. We've got nothing yet on the young fellow. Maybe he's the real bossof the outfit. At any rate he is the one the Chief is anxious to haveyou keep tabs on. Are you to see him again?"

"Oh, yes, " the girl answered quickly, a touch of color coming to herface, "I think so. I asked him to come to see me. I think--in fact I'msure--he will. Do you want me to watch the bookshop to see if they leaveany more messages there?"

"No, " said Carter. "I've got one of my men assigned to that. You keepafter the young fellow. Say, does your father keep an automobile?"

"Yes, but it's been put up for the winter. We're going to bring it outas soon as Dad can find a chauffeur. Our man--the one we had lastyear--has been drafted, and good chauffeurs are scarce now. Why didyou ask?"

"I'll find you a chauffeur, " said Carter decisively. 

"You mean"--Jane hesitated--"a detective?"

Carter grinned. 

"An agent like you and me. K-27 is an expert chauffeur and mechanic withfine references. His last job was with the British High Commission, andthey gave him good testimonials. "

"What do you want him to do?"

"Driving the Strong car makes a good excuse for him to be around withoutexciting suspicion. He might even come up-stairs once in a while to getorders or do little repair jobs around the apartment. Some day, supposing the people next door were all out, he might even succeed inplanting a dictograph so that you could sit there in your room and hearall that was going on and what the Hoffs talked about. That would help alot. If ever he was caught prowling about the hall, the fact that he wasyour chauffeur would provide him with an alibi. Do you think you can fixit up with your father?"

"I'm sure of it. When can he come?"

"The sooner the better--to-night--to-morrow. "

"I'll tell Dad at dinner to-night that I've learned of a good chauffeurand have asked him to come in at eight this evening. "

"Fine, " said Carter. "He'll be there. And don't forget to report once aday to the Chief. "

"I won't. "

"And if anything unexpected turns up, " said Carter, "and you need help, take a good look at that nurse that is passing. "

Jane turned curiously to inspect a buxom girl in a drab nurse's costumewho was wheeling a baby carriage along the sidewalk near-by. Seeingherself observed the girl stopped, and at a sign from Carter wheeled hercharge up to where they were standing. 

"K-22, " said Carter, "I want to introduce you to K-19. "

Gravely the two girls, nodding, inspected each other. 

"She always wears a blue bow at her neck, " Carter added, "so you canrecognize her by that. "

The girl smilingly nodded again and wheeled the carriage on up theDrive. 

"Who is she?" Jane asked eagerly, turning to Carter. 

"Just K-22, " said the agent, "and all she knows about you is that youare K-19. That's the way we work in the service mostly. The less oneoperative knows about another the better, for what you don't know youcan't talk about. "

"Doesn't she even know my name?" persisted Jane. 

"She may have found it out for herself while she has been watching theHoffs, but we didn't tell her. Nobody in the service knows who you areexcept the Chief and myself--and of course K-27 will have to know if hetakes the chauffeur's job. "

"What is his name?"

"I don't know yet, " said Carter gravely. "I haven't seen his references, so I don't know what name they are made out in. You can find out what tocall him when he reports to-night. You'll see that he gets the job?"

"Indeed I will, " answered Jane, experiencing a sense of relief at theprospect of having some one at hand in the household with whom she coulddiscuss her activities. 

And as she had anticipated she had little difficulty in interesting herfather in the subject of a new chauffeur. Mr. Strong for several dayshad been trying to find one without success. 

"You say this man's last place was with the British High Commission. "

"Some one of the girls was telling me, " she prevaricated. "I asked herto tell him to come here to-night at eight. He ought to be hereany minute. "

Presently the candidate for the place was announced. 

"Mr. Thomas Dean to see about a chauffeur's position, " the maid said asshe brought him in, and while her father questioned him, Jane studiedhim carefully. 

He could not be more than thirty, she decided, and the voice in which heanswered her father's questions was surely a cultivated one. It wouldnot have surprised her in the least to have learned that he was acollege man. Even in his neat chauffeur's uniform he seemed every incha gentleman. He had been driving a car for twelve years, he explained. No, he did not drink and had never been arrested for speeding. 

"Are you a married man?"

Jane listened curiously for his answer to this question of her father's. Surely it would be far more interesting if he wasn't. Of course, he wasa chauffeur and a detective, but somehow she could not help feeling, perhaps because of his easy manner, that more than likely most of thecars he had driven were cars that he himself had owned. K-27 she decidedwas going to be quite a satisfactory partner to work with. 

"There's just one thing, " said her father. "You say you are not married. I can't understand why it is that you are not in the army. "

"I am not eligible, " said Thomas Dean calmly, though Jane thought shecould detect a twinkle in his eye. "One of my legs has been broken inthree places. "

"But there are things a young fellow can do for his country besidesmarching, " insisted Mr. Strong. "The government needs mechanics, too. "

"I know, " said Thomas Dean, almost humbly, "but I have a mother, and myfather is dead. "

Jane smiled a little to herself at his answer. She noted how carefullyhe had avoided saying anything about having a mother to support. Itwould not have surprised her in the least to have learned that he was amillionaire, yet her father, ordinarily shrewd in judging men, apparently was satisfied. 

"Supporting a mother, I suppose, comes first, " he said. "Well, Dean, when can you come?"

"To-morrow morning if you like, " the new chauffeur answered, noddinggravely to Jane as he withdrew. 

Mr. Strong, as soon as they were alone, spoke enthusiastically about theyoung man, complimenting Jane on having discovered him, and as he did soa revulsion of feeling swept over her. For the first time she realizedinto what duplicity her work for the government was leading her. She hadpledged her word to Chief Fleck that she would keep her activities anabsolute secret even from her parents. Already she was deceiving them, bringing into the household an employee who really was a detective, aspy. She was tempted to tell her father, at least, what she was doing. He, she knew, was filled with a high spirit of patriotism. While hemight not wholly approve of what she herself was doing she might be ableto convince him of the necessity of it. If she could only tell him, herconscience would not trouble her, but there was her promise--her sacredpromise; she couldn't break that. 

While with troubled mind she debated with herself between her duty toher parents and her duty to her country, one of the maids came in with abox of flowers for her. 

Eagerly she cut the string and opened the box. Chief Fleck especiallywanted her to cultivate young Hoff's acquaintance. If her suspicion asto the sender were correct, she could feel that she had made anauspicious beginning. 

In a tremor of excitement she snatched off the lid of the box and toreout the accompanying card from its envelope. 

"Mr. Frederic Johann Hoff, " it read, "in appreciation of a mostprofitable afternoon. "

Wondering at the peculiar sentiment of the card she tore off theenclosing tissue paper from the flowers. Orchids, wonderful, delicatelytinted orchids, nestled in a sheaf of feathery green fern--five of them. 

"Five orchids--the fifth book--a profitable afternoon. "

Jane felt sure now she had betrayed the government's watchers to atleast one of the watched. 

CHAPTER VII

THE WOMAN ON THE ROOF

It is amazing how much information on any given subject any one--even awholly inexperienced person like Jane Strong--can acquire within a fewdays when one's mind is set resolutely to the task. It is much moreamazing how much one can learn when aided and abetted by an experiencedchauffeur, or more properly speaking a mysterious and cultured secretservice operative, masquerading as an automobile driver. 

Who Thomas Dean was, why he was in the secret service, and what his realname was, were questions that kept perpetually puzzling Jane. In thepresence of her father and mother, so skilful an actor was he that itwas hard to believe him anything but what he appeared to be, arespectful, intelligent and prompt young man who knew the trafficregulations and the anatomy of automobiles. When he and Jane were bythemselves he invariably threw off his mask to some extent. He becamethe director instead of the directed, though never letting anything ofthe personal relation creep in. That he was college-bred, Jane feltcertain. He spoke both German and French much better than she did. Heoccasionally used words that no ordinary chauffeur would be likely toknow the meaning of. Sharing the secret of such a mission as theirs, they quickly found themselves on a friendly basis, yet the girlhesitated whenever her curiosity prompted her to try to find outanything that would reveal his identity. There was always present thefeeling that any exhibition of undue curiosity on her part would be adisappointment to her employer. The chief disapproved of curiosityexcept on one subject--what the Germans were doing. 

Many things Jane and her aide learned about the Hoffs in the daysfollowing Thomas Dean's coming, reporting them all as directed. Of howmuch or of how little value her discoveries were Jane had no means ofknowing. Chief Fleck seemed satisfied but was always urging her toacquire more information and more details, always details. Dean, too, had seconded the warning about observing even what seemed to beinsignificant trifles. 

"Most of the Germans, " he said to her, "you will find are verymethodical. They like to do things according to schedule. For instance, I learned yesterday that old Hoff and his nephew frequently go off onall-day automobile trips. They always go on Wednesday. "

"Are they going to-morrow?"

"The presumption is that they will. They have done so every Wednesdayfor six weeks. "

"Can't we follow them in our car?" cried the girl, "and see what theyare up to?"

Dean shook his head. 

"The Chief is looking out for that. There is more important work for usto do right here. I want to try to install a dictograph in theirapartment. "

"How exciting. "

"You must find some excuse for me to come up into your apartment and seeto it that none of your people are about. "

"That will be easy. Mother and Aunt will be out all day, and it iscook's afternoon off. I can easily send the maids out. "

"But that's not all. There is the Hoffs' servant to be disposed of. "

"I don't see how I can manage that, " said Jane. She could think of nopossible way of overcoming that difficulty. 

"She's an old German woman--Lena Kraus, " continued Dean. "I've found outthat she always washes on Wednesdays. When she goes up on the roof inthe afternoon to get the clothes will be our time. It will be your jobto see that she stays there until I am through. It will not take me morethan half an hour. "

"But what will I do if she starts to come down? How will I stop her?"

"You'll have to use your wits. Keep her talking as long as you can. Whenshe starts down come with her. Press the elevator button four times. I'll leave the door of the Hoff apartment open and very likely will hearit in time to get away. "

"But how'll you get their door open?"

Dean smilingly drew forth a key. 

"I borrowed the superintendent's bunch last night, pretending I had lostthe key to my locker in the basement. I knew he had a master-key thatunlocks all the apartment doors, and there was no trouble in picking itout. I had some wax in my hand and made an impression of it right underhis nose. "

"How clever, " cried Jane, "but suppose the Hoffs do not go offto-morrow. What will we do then?"

"You are taking tea with young Hoff this afternoon, aren't you?"

"Yes, " said Jane, "that is, he asked me to. I am to meet him at theBiltmore at five. "

"When you're with him propose doing something together to-morrowafternoon. See what he says. "

"That's an excellent idea. I'll ask him to go to the matinée with me. "

"That will do splendidly. Has he been with that navy officer lately?"

"Not since Sunday, to my knowledge. I wonder if old Mr. Hoff has leftany more cipher messages at the bookshop?"

"No, " said Dean, "he hasn't. The place has been constantly watched, buthe hasn't been near it since that first day. "

"I'm afraid, " sighed Jane despondently, "I betrayed the fact that wewere watching them to the nephew. He overheard me talking to Carterabout the 'fifth book, ' and of course he knew what it meant. I'm certainthe old man is still reporting about our transports. Every day I canhear some one telephoning to him. He waits for the message, and then hegoes out. "

"He certainly is expert in eluding shadowers, " admitted Dean. "Every dayhe has been followed, but always he manages to give the operatives theslip. He must know he is being watched. "

"I'm anxious to know what the nephew will say to me to-day, " said Jane. "I know he knows what I am doing. He looks at me in such an amusedlysuperior way every time he sees me. "

"Be careful about trying to pump him, " cautioned Dean. "He strikes me asby far the more intelligent of the two. It would not surprise me in theleast if he were not old Hoff's nephew at all, but really his superior, sent over especially by Wilhelmstrasse to take charge of the plotters. He doesn't in the least resemble old Hoff. "

"No indeed, he doesn't, " admitted Jane. "He certainly is clever, too. We haven't learned a single thing that incriminates him, have we?"

"Nothing definite, yet everything taken together looks damaging enough. Here is a young German of military age and appearance, who arrived fromSweden just before we went into the war. He has plenty of money andspends his time idling about New York, in frequent communication with atleast one navy officer. He selects a home overlooking the river fromwhich our soldiers are departing for France. You yourself saw himpursuing K-19--the other K-19--who a few hours afterward was foundmurdered. "

"Things don't look right, " Jane agreed, yet a few hours later as she satopposite the young man at tea, she found herself doubting. It seemedincredible, impossible, that Frederic Hoff could be a murderer. Herinstinctive sense of justice forced her to admit that it was hard forher to believe him even a spy. He seemed so cultured, so clean, sostraightforward, so nice. If she had not seen that unforgettable look ofhate on his face that night as she watched him from the window shecould not, she would not have believed evil of him. 

The tremor of nervous excitement in which she met him quickly passed, and she found herself once more chatting intimately with him andenjoying it. He talked well on practically all subjects, showingreserve only when she tried to draw him out about himself. Her previousexperiences with the opposite sex had taught her that most men'sfavorite topic of conversation is themselves, but Mr. Hoff appeared tobe the exception. Adroitly he baffled all her efforts to get him todiscuss his family, his achievements, or his past, even when she soughtto encourage intimacy by telling about her brother who was abroad inPershing's army. 

"You must let me be your big brother while he is away, " her escort hadsuggested gallantly. 

"All right, brother, " she had challenged him. "I'll take you on at once. I have seats for a matinée to-morrow. I'd much rather go with a brotherthan with one of the girls. "

"I would be delighted, " he answered unsuspectingly, "but unfortunately Ihave an engagement that takes me out of town. "

"We'll go next week, then--Wednesday. "

"A week is too long to wait. Let me take you to a matinée on Saturday. "

Jane hesitated. At times her conscience troubled her not a little. Whilesatisfied that the importance of her trust wholly justified her actions, she disliked any deception of her family. 

"Wouldn't it be better, " she parried, "if you came to call on me someevening first? You've only just met my mother, and I would like you toknow Dad, too. "

"May I?" he cried with manifest pleasure. "How about to-morrow evening?"

"That's Wednesday, " she answered slowly. That was the day she and Deanwere planning to put in a dictograph. She wondered at herself calmlycarrying on this casual conversation with the man she was planning tobetray. Coloring a little from the very shame of it, she continued, "Howabout making it Thursday evening?"

"Delighted, " cried Hoff, "and about Saturday's matinée--what haven't youseen?"

Glad for the respite of at least twenty-four hours, Jane, as theytalked, watched his face, his expression, his eyes. Regardless of thethings she believed about him, he impressed her as honest and sincere. Certainly there was no mistaking the fact that his liking for her andhis delight in her society were wholly genuine. Her heart warned herthat it was his intention to press their new-formed acquaintance intoclose intimacy. Was he, she wondered, like herself, pretendingfriendship merely to unmask secrets for his government? No, she couldnot, she would not believe it. She felt sure that his admiration wasunfeigned. Something told her that quickly his ardor and determinationmight lead her into embarrassing circumstances. He might even ask her tomarry him. For a moment she was overcome with timidity and tempted tostop short on her new career, but there came to her the thought of thebrave Americans in the trenches, of the soldiers at sea, of the brutal, lurking U-boats, and sternly she put aside all personal considerations. 

"You spoke of going out of town, " she said when the subject of thematinée had been disposed of. "Don't you find train travel ratherdisagreeable these days?"

"Fortunately I'm motoring. "

"That will be nice, if you don't have to travel too far. "

"It is quite a distance for one day, but I am used to it. I make thetrip often. "

Feeling that at least she had learned something, Jane rose to go. Sheknew that both the Hoffs would be out of the way to-morrow. Theinference from his last remark was that they were going to the sameplace they had gone on previous Wednesdays. That was something to reportto Mr. Fleck. 

"My car is outside, " she said as they rose. "Can't I take you home?"

"Sorry, " said her host, "but I am dining here to-night. LieutenantKramer is to join me. "

"Remember me to him, " she said as he escorted her to the automobile, driven by Dean. 

A block away from the hotel she tapped on the glass, and as Dean broughtthe car to a stop she climbed into the seat beside him. Only a week agoshe would have criticized any girl who rode beside the chauffeur. Infact she had spoken disapprovingly of a girl in her own set who made ahabit of doing it, but now she never gave it a thought. Many things inher life seemed to have assumed new aspects and values since she hadentered on a career of useful activity. In her was rapidly developingsomething of her father's ability and directness. As she wanted to talkconfidentially with Dean, she went the easiest way about it, entirelyregardless of appearances. 

"Apparently you carried it off well, " he commented. 

"I hope so, " she answered, coloring a little. "They're making theirusual Wednesday motor trip. "

"He did not tell you their destination?"

"No, but Lieutenant Kramer is dining with him to-night at the Biltmore. "

"Fine. Those things the Chief can take care of. That leaves the wayclear for us to-morrow afternoon. "

"What excuse will I make for having you come up to the apartment?"

"You want me to change some pictures. That will account for the wire ifI'm caught. "

"I hope no one sees you. "

"Nobody'll see me but the elevator man, and he'll think nothing of it. "

Apparently, too, Dean was right, for the next afternoon he entered theStrong apartment carrying a suitcase in which was concealed hisapparatus and the necessary wire. 

"Hurry, " cried Jane, who was waiting for him. "The Hoffs' maid has justgone up on the roof. "

"We can safely give her at least a few minutes, " said Dean setting towork to make a hole through the wall into the apartment adjoining. Justas he had finished making it and had pushed one end of the wire through, the telephone bell rang, and Jane in dismay sprang to answer it. 

"Disguise your voice, " warned Dean. "If it is a caller say there is noone home. "

"It was Lieutenant Kramer calling, " said Jane as she returned. 

"Did he recognize your voice?"

"I don't think so. "

"What did he say?"

"He said to tell Miss Strong that he had called. "

"Then he didn't suspect you. "

"Isn't there danger, though, that he may come up to the Hoffapartment?"

Dean sprang to the window and looked out at the street below. 

"No, there he goes up the street. He evidently did not try to see if theHoffs were at home. That's funny. "

"Why funny?"

"It means of course that he, too, knows about those Wednesday trips theHoffs make. "

Cautiously he opened the door into the public hall. There was no oneabout. Catlike in swiftness and silence he moved to the Hoff door andinserted his new-made key. It worked perfectly. 

"Now, " he whispered to Jane, "to the roof--quick. I must not be taken bysurprise. Give me at least ten minutes more--fifteen if you can. "

Quickly he passed inside, closing the door behind him all but a barelynoticeable crack, as Jane rang for the elevator and bade the operatortake her to the roof. As she emerged there and stood waiting for theelevator to descend again, an ornamental lattice screened her from therest of the roof. Cautiously and curiously she peered between theslats, trying to see what the Hoff servant was doing at the moment. Shedecided that she would not reveal her presence until the woman madeready to go down-stairs. 

As from behind her screen she scanned the roof she espied old Lena overon the side next the river bending over a half-filled basket of clothes, apparently putting into the basket some of the freshly dried laundryfrom the lines extending all over the roof. As Jane watched her the oldwoman straightened herself up and cast a cautious glance about. Apparently satisfied that she was alone she whipped out something from apocket in her apron and turned in the direction of the river. 

Jane gasped in amazement, a thrill of excitement sweeping over her atthis new discovery. It was plain that the old servant was studying thetransports in the river below through a pair of powerful field glasses. Curiously Jane observed her, wondering what she was trying to ascertain, wondering if through the glasses she was able to identify thebattleships and other boats. Old Lena's next move was still morepuzzling. Hastily dropping her glasses into the basket she began tohang again on the line some of the clothes. They were handkerchiefs, Jane noted interestedly, one large red one, and the rest white, somelarge, some small, a whole long row of nothing but handkerchiefs. 

All at once it came to Jane what it must mean. The arrangement of thehandkerchiefs must be some sort of a code. She studied the way they wereplaced, committing the order to memory. "Red--two large--one small--onelarge--one small. " Of course it was a code, a signal to some one aboardone of the ships. 

The line of handkerchiefs completed old Lena once more took up herglasses, first looking around as before to see if any one were on theroof. How Jane wished that she, too, could see the ships from where shestood. Was some traitor in the navy wigwagging to the old woman? She wastempted to spring forward and seize her and stop this dastardlysignalling, but she remembered her duty. She was there to see that Deanwas not surprised by old Lena's return. So long as the woman keptsignalling he was safe. 

Once more the laundress dropped her glasses and began franticallyrearranging the handkerchiefs. Again Jane noted their order--red--twosmall--one large--three small--two large. Again the laundress resortedto the glasses, and at last, apparently satisfied, began taking down therest of the laundry and making ready to leave the roof. Trying to act asif she had just arrived, Jane stepped boldly forward. 

"I wonder, " she said approaching the woman, "if you can tell me where Ican find a good laundress. "

"_Nicht versteh_" said old Lena, eyeing her suspiciously and hostilely, and at the same time attempting to pass her with the basket of clothes. 

Deliberately blocking the way, Jane repeated her question, this time inGerman, feeling thankful that her language studies at school were notwholly forgotten and that they had included such practical phrases asthose required to hire and discharge maids and complain about thequality of their work. 

"I know no one, " the old woman answered her, this time in English. 

Jane breathed fast with excitement. The laundress' slip of the tongue, after denying that she understood, was evidence in itself of herdeliberate duplicity. Realizing her mistake, the old woman now sullenlyrefused to answer any questions, merely shaking her head and trying tododge past and escape. 

To prolong the questioning, Jane felt, would be only to arousesuspicion, and reluctantly she allowed old Lena to precede her to theelevator, anticipating her, however, in ringing the bell, pressing thebutton four times as Dean had directed. As they descended together shewas almost in a panic. How long had she kept the laundress on the roof?She really had no idea. She had been so absorbed in her new discoveryshe had given no thought to the time. For all she knew she might havebeen there only five minutes. Had Dean had time to finish his work?

Almost frenzied with anxiety, wondering if it were too soon, she movedforward in the car so as to obstruct old Lena's view through the door asit opened. One glance showed her the Hoff door now tightly closed, andshe thought she heard the door of her own apartment just closing. Suddenly she remembered that she had gone up on the roof without a key. It would be a pretty pass if Dean were still in the Hoff apartment andshe couldn't get into her own. 

All in a tremble she pressed the button of her own door, waiting, however, to see that the laundress was out of the hall. It was Dean whoopened the door, and she all but fainted in his arms as she saw that hewas back in safety. 

"It's done, " he cried gleefully, as he caught her and drew her within, closing the door carefully behind her. "I just finished my work as youcame down. "

Great drops of perspiration still stood on his forehead and he wasbreathing rapidly. 

"Why, what's the matter?" he cried, noticing for the first time Jane'sperturbation. "Was it too much for you? What happened?"

"Put this down quick, quick, " gasped Jane, "Red--two large--onesmall--one large--one small--and then--red--two small--one large--threesmall--two large. "

Wonderingly he complied, jotting down what she told him in his notebook, and turning to ask her what it meant, discovered that she had fainted. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE LISTENING EAR

"I don't know what is the matter with Jane, " sighed Mrs. Strong a fewdays after the employment of the new chauffeur. 

"She's not ill, is she?" responded her husband. "I never saw her lookingmore fit. "

"She looks all right, " said her mother. "It is the peculiar way she isacting that bothers me. She spends hours and hours moping in her room, and then there are times when she takes notions of going out and ispositively insistent that she must have the car. "

"Maybe she's in love, " suggested Mr. Strong, resorting to the commonmasculine suspicion. 

"With whom?" retorted his wife indignantly. "I don't believe there is aneligible man under forty in all New York. None of the men are thinkingabout marriage these days. They all want to go to France, even themarried ones. I believe you'd go yourself if you were a fewyears younger. "

"I certainly would, " announced her husband enthusiastically. 

"Jane tells me she is writing a novel, " Mrs. Strong continued, "andthat's why she stays in her room so much. I hope she won't turn out tobe literary. "

"Don't worry, " advised Mr. Strong. "With all the men off to war you'llfind young women doing all kinds of funny things to work off theirenergy. If a girl can't be husband-hunting, she's got to be doingsomething to keep busy. There are worse things than trying to writenovels. Jane is all right. Let her alone. "

So, even though her mother's suspicions had been aroused, the girl inthe next few days managed to spend many hours with her ears glued to thereceiver of the dictograph without being discovered. In the Hoffs'apartment Dean had succeeded in locating it over the dining-room table, concealed in the chandelier, and in Jane's room the other end rested inthe back of a dresser drawer that she always carefully lockedwhen absent. 

The novelty of listening for bits of her neighbors' conversationquickly wore off. To sit almost motionless for hours listening, listening intently for every sound, hearing occasional words spokeneither in too low tones or too far distant to make them understandable, to record bits of conversation that sounded harmless, yet might havesome sinister meaning, became a most laborious task. Yet persistentlyJane stuck at it. The greater knowledge she gained of the plottings ofthe German agents, the more important and vital she realized it was forevery clue to be diligently followed in the hope that the trail might atlast reach the master-spy, whose manifold activities weremenacing America. 

In general she was disappointed with the results of her listening. To besure they had furnished indisputable evidence of something they alreadyhad ascertained--that old Hoff, despite being a naturalized American, still was a devoted adherent of the ruler of Germany. Nightly as he andhis nephew sat down to dinner she could hear his gruff, unpleasant voiceceremoniously proposing always the same toast:

"Der Kaiser!"

Even when the younger Hoff was dining out, as he sometimes did, Janecould hear the old man giving the toast, presumably with only the oldservant for an auditor. That the woman, too, was a spy, as well asservant, Jane had known since the day on the roof, but so far neithershe nor Dean had been able to make anything out of her handkerchiefcode, though both were sure the messages related to the sailings oftransports. 

Only once had she heard anything that she deemed really important. Oneevening, as uncle and nephew dined, there had been an acrimoniousdispute. 

"Have you it yet?" the uncle had asked in German. 

"Not yet, " Frederic had answered. 

His seemingly simple reply for some reason appeared to have stirred theelder man's wrath. He broke into a volley of curses and epithets, reproaching his nephew for his delay. In the rapid medley ofoaths and expostulations Jane could distinguish only occasionalwords--"afraid"--"haste"--"all-highest importance"--"American swine. "The younger Hoff had appeared to exercise marvelous self-control. 

"There is yet time, " he answered calmly. 

"Donnerwetter, " the old man had exclaimed. "There is yet time, yousay--and Emil the wonder-worker almost ready has. It must be doneat once. "

The outburst over, old Hoff had subsided into inarticulate mutterings, evidently busy with his food, leaving Jane to wonder futilely who Emilmight be, what he meant by the "wonder-worker, " and what particular taskhad been assigned to the nephew that must be performed immediately. Shehad hastened to report this conversation in detail to Chief Fleck, butif he understood what it was about he had taken neither Jane nor ThomasDean into his confidence. 

Other things, too, Jane had learned and reported, which she knew thechief appreciated even though he was sparing in his thanks andcompliments. She had learned through her almost constant listening thatLieutenant Kramer was a regular visitor, coming to the Hoff apartment orseeing Frederic Hoff somewhere every other day. Unfortunately he wasalways conducted into one of the inner rooms, so that no more of theconversation than the ordinary greetings and farewells ever reachedJane's ears. The mere fact of his coming so regularly to the Hoffsconvicted him of treachery, in Jane's mind. What proper business couldan American naval officer have in the home of two German agents? Theexcuse that Frederic Hoff was a delightful and entertaining friend wasentirely too flimsy and unsatisfactory. 

Nothing that she had overheard--and within her heart she felt glad thatit was so--in any way as yet incriminated young Hoff. When she dared tothink about it, she found herself almost believing, certainly at leastwishing, that the nephew was not involved in his uncle's activities. Most of his time, in fact, was spent out of the apartment. He frequentlywent out early in the morning, not returning until the early hours ofthe next morning. The old man, on the contrary, always stayed at homeuntil eleven o'clock. At that hour his telephone would ring. Thetelephone was located near the dining room, so Jane could easily hearhis conversations. Invariably some brief message was given to him, aname, which he repeated aloud as if for verification. 

As Jane overheard them she had set them down:

 Thursday--"Jones. " Friday--"Simpson. " Saturday--"Marks. " Sunday--"Heilwitz. " Monday--"Lilienthal. " Tuesday--"Wheeler. "

As she sat by the hour listening Jane kept pondering over these names. What could they mean? Were they, too, a code of some sort? Always, assoon as this word had come to him, old Hoff went out. Could they be, shewondered, passwords by which he gained access somewhere to governmentbuildings or places where munitions were being made or shipped?

Meanwhile her acquaintance with Frederic Hoff had been progressingrapidly. As she had suggested he had called on her and had beenpresented to her father, and on the next Saturday they had gone to amatinée together. She had been eager to see what her father thought ofhim, for Mr. Strong, she knew, was regarded as a shrewd judge of men. 

"What does that young Hoff do who was here last night?" her father hadasked at the breakfast table. 

"He's in the importing business with his uncle, I think, " she hadanswered. 

"Where'd you meet him?"

"He lives in the apartment next door. Lieutenant Kramer introduced him. "

"He's German, isn't he?"

"Oh, no, " said Jane, almost unconsciously rallying to defend him, "hewas born in this country. "

"Well, it's a German name. "

"Don't you like him?"

"He talks well, " her father said, "and seems to be well-bred. "

It was with reluctance, too, that Jane admitted to herself that thebetter acquainted she became with Frederic Hoff the more fascinating shefound his society. She was always expecting that by some word or actionhe would reveal to her his true character. At the matinée she had waitedanxiously to see what he would do when the orchestra played thenational anthem. To her amazement he was on his feet almost among thefirst and remained standing in an attitude of the utmost respect untilthe last bar was completed. If he were only pretending the rôle of agood American, he certainly was a wonderful actor. As her admiration forhim increased and her interest in him grew she found that almost heronly antidote was to try to keep thinking of his face as she had seen itthe night that K-19--the other K-19--had been so mysteriously murdered. She kept wondering if Chief Fleck had made any further discoveries aboutthe murder and resolved to ask him about it at the first opportunity. She therefore was delighted when on Tuesday, as she made her regularreport by telephone, he asked if she could come to his office thatafternoon with Dean to discuss some matters of importance. They foundCarter already with the chief when they arrived. 

"Thanks to your work, Miss Strong, and to Dean's dictograph, " said thechief, "we have made considerable progress. We have learned a lot moreabout the cipher messages. "

"You have learned it through me, " cried Jane in amazement. 

"Yes, " said the chief, smiling, "from that list of names you reported. "

"What were they, a cipher, a code?" questioned the girl breathlessly. 

"No, nothing like that. They are merely the names of various innocentand unsuspecting booksellers in various parts of the city. "

"How did you discover that?"

"In the simplest and easiest way possible. I listed all the names youreported and studied them carefully, trying to find their commondenominator. They were not in the same neighborhood, so it was notlocality. They were not all German, so it was not racial. I looked themup in the telephone directory, checking up the numbers of the telephonesof the Jones, the Simpsons, but that gave no clue. Then, as I lookedthrough the telephone lists, I discovered that there was a bookstorekept by a man of each name. Then I understood. It is a simple plan forthrowing off shadowers. "

"You mean that Mr. Hoff goes to a different bookstore each day to leavea code message?"

"That's it. The spy who gets the messages each morning calls him up by'phone, mentioning just the one word. From that Mr. Hoff knows justwhere to go, concealing the message in a book before agreed upon. "

"The fifth book, " interrupted Dean. 

"Not always, " explained Fleck. "It depends on whether there are fiveletters in the name telephoned. I have located and copied several moreof the messages. "

"But who gets the messages he leaves? Who takes them away from thebookshops?" asked Jane, mindful of her own failure in that respect. 

"It's a girl, or rather two girls together, though possibly only one ofthem is in the plot. Very likely the other may not know what hercompanion is doing. "

"To whom does this girl take them?"

"That is still a mystery, " said the chief. "We have ascertained who thegirl is, where she lives. Her actions have been watched and recorded forevery hour in the twenty-four for the last three days, and yet we don'tknow what she does with these messages. Carter has a theory--tell usabout it, Carter. "

"In accordance with instructions, " began Carter, as if he was makingout a report, "I had operatives K-24 and K-11 shadow the partysuspected. On two different occasions they followed her to a bookstoreand back home again. She was accompanied on one occasion by her youngersister. Each time she went directly home and stopped there, neither shenor her sister coming out again, and no person visiting theapartment, but--"

"Here's the interesting part, " interrupted Fleck. 

"On both occasions within a couple of blocks of the bookstore she passeda man with a dachshund. She did not speak to the man, but each time shestopped to pet the dog. "

"Was it the same man both times?" asked Dean. 

"Apparently not, " replied Carter, "but it may have been the same dog. Dachshunds all look alike. "

"Go on, " said the chief. 

"Now my theory is that that girl was instructed to walk north until shemet the man with the dog. I'll bet anything that code message wentunder the dog's collar. The next time she gets a message I'm going toget that dog. "

"It seems preposterous, " scoffed Dean. 

"Rather it shows, " said Fleck, "that these spies all suspect they arebeing watched, and that they resort to the most extraordinary methods ofcommunication to throw off shadowers. They have used dachshunds before. There's a New England munition plant to which they used to send amessenger each week to learn how their plans for strikes and destructionwere progressing. They put a different man on the job each time to avoidstirring up suspicion. At the station there would always be two childrenplaying with a dachshund. The spy would simply follow them as ifcasually, and they would lead him to a rendezvous with the localplotters. Now, Miss Strong, " he said, turning to Jane, "I brought youdown here for two reasons. First, to give you an inkling of howimportant your task is, and second, to ask you to undertake stillanother task for us. Are you still willing to help?"

"More than ever, " said the girl firmly. 

"The one disappointment is that we are getting no evidence whatever toinvolve or incriminate young Hoff. To-morrow, while he and his uncle areaway on their usual auto trip, I am going to have the apartmentthoroughly searched. "

Jane's face blanched. She recalled what a strain it had been on hernerves the day she watched on the roof while Dean installed thedictograph. She felt hardly equal to the task of ransacking desksand drawers. 

"There will be no one at home but the old servant. She can be easilydisposed of. It is imperative that the search be made at once. There isevidence that what they are planning--evidently some big coup--isnearing the time for its execution. We must find it out in order tothwart them. I have got to know what old Hoff meant by the'wonder-worker!' He said that it was nearly ready. I suspect that it issome new engine of destruction. We must prevent any disaster totransports or munition factories, if that's what they have in mind. "

"You think it's a bomb plot?" asked Jane. 

"I don't know what it is. These empire-mad fools stop at nothing. Nothing is sacred to them, women, children, property. With fanaticalenergy and ability they commit murders, resort to arson, use poisons, foment strikes, wreck buildings, blow up ships, do anything, attemptanything to serve the Kaiser. Karl Boy-ed spent three millions here inAmerica in two months, and Von Papen a million more. What for? Tenthousand dollars to one man to start a bomb factory, twenty-fivethousand dollars to another to blow up a tunnel. Millions on millionsfor German propaganda was raised right here, and it is far from allspent yet. We've got to find out what the wonder-worker is and destroyit before it destroys--God knows what. "

"Very well, " said Jane with quiet determination, "I'll search theirapartment. "

"No, not that, " said the chief, "I'll send some fake inspectors to testthe electric wiring, and they'll do the searching. I do not know forsure that the Hoffs suspect you of watching them, but I'm taking nochances. It will be just as well for you and Dean to be out of the wayto-morrow all day, so that you will have an alibi. Germany's secretagents are suspicious of everybody. They do not even trust their ownpeople. What I want you and Dean to do is to try to follow the Hoffs andsee where they go. I don't want to use the same persons twice to trailthem as they may get suspicious. "

"I can easily do that, " said Jane, feeling relieved. "I'll tell Mother Iwant our car for all day. "

"No, don't use your own car. They might recognize it. I'll provideanother one. They gave two of my men the slip last week somewhere theother side of Tarrytown. Let's hope they are not so successfulthis time. "

"But won't they recognize me?"

"Not if you disguise yourself with goggles and a dust coat. Dean canmake up, too. He had practice enough at college, eh, Dean?"

Jane turned to look interestedly at Dean, who had the grace to color up. She was right then. He was a college man, working in the secret servicenot for the sake of the job but for the sake of his country. 

"Of course I can disguise myself too, " she said enthusiastically, a newzest in her work asserting itself, now that she knew her principalco-operator was probably in the same social stratum as herself. 

"You can rely on us, Chief, " said Dean, as they left the officetogether. "We'll run them down. "

As they emerged into Broadway and turned north to reach the subway atFulton Street, Dean, with a warning "sst, " suddenly caught Jane's armand drew her to a shop window, where he appeared to be pointing out somegoods displayed there. As he did so he whispered:

"Don't say a word and don't turn around, but watch the people passing, in this mirror here--quick, now, look. "

Jane, as she was bidden, glanced, at first curiously and then inrecognition and amazement, at a tall figure reflected in the mirror, ashe passed close behind her. It was a man in uniform. Regardless ofDean's warning she turned abruptly to stare uncertainly at the militaryback now a few paces away. 

"Did you recognize him?" cried Dean. 

"It--it looked like Frederic Hoff, " faltered the girl. 

"It was Frederic Hoff, " corrected her companion, "Frederic Hoff in theuniform of a British officer, a British cavalry captain!"

CHAPTER IX

THE PURSUIT

Masked by an enormous pair of motor goggles and further shielded fromrecognition by a cap drawn down almost over his nose, Thomas Dean in abasket-rigged motorcycle impatiently sat awaiting the arrival of JaneStrong at a corner they had agreed upon the evening before. He had beenparticularly insistent that Jane should be on hand at a quarter beforeeight. He had learned by judicious inquiries that always onWednesdays--at least on the Wednesdays previous--the Hoffs had startedoff on their mysterious trips at eight sharp. His intention was to getaway ahead of them and pick them up somewhere outside the city limits. 

Jane had promised that she would be on hand promptly. Once more helooked impatiently at his watch. It lacked just half a minute of thequarter, but there was no sign of his fellow operative. The only personvisible in the block was a boy strolling carelessly in his direction. With a muttered exclamation of annoyance Dean restored his watch to hispocket, debating with himself how long he ought to wait and whether ornot he had better wait if she did not appear soon. Very possibly, herealized, something entirely unforeseen might have detained her or haveprevented her coming. Perhaps her family had doubted her story that shewas going off on an all-day motor trip with a friend? Maybe theirsuspicions had been aroused by his having reported sick? He had almostdecided to go on alone when he observed that the boy he had seenapproaching was standing beside the motorcycle. 

"Good morning, Thomas, " said the boy, a little doubtfully, as if notquite sure that it was he. 

Dean gasped in astonishment. The boy's voice was the voice of Jane. Laughing merrily at his amazement and discomfiture, she climbed into theseat beside him, asking:

"How do you like my disguise?"

"It's great, " he cried. "You fooled me completely, and I was expectingyou. "

"When Chief Fleck said I ought to disguise myself for fear that theHoffs already suspected me, I happened to remember these clothes. I hadthem once for a play we gave in school. "

"But you don't even walk like a girl. "

Jane laughed again. 

"I practised that walk for days and days. When I first put on this suitmy brother hooted at the way I walked. He said no girl ever could learnto walk like a boy. I made up my mind I'd show him. "

"But your hair, " protested Dean, almost anxiously. Even if he was justnow assuming the humble rôle of chauffeur he still was an ardent admirerof such hair as Jane's, long, black and luxurious. 

"Tucked up under my cap, " laughed the girl, "and for fear it mighttumble down, I brought this along. It's what the sailor boys call a'beanie, ' isn't it?"

As she spoke she adjusted over her head a visorlike woolen cap that leftonly her face showing. 

"But your mother--didn't she wonder about your wearing those clothes?"

"She was in bed when I left. All she caught was just a glimpse of me inDad's dust coat, and that came to my ankles. I wore it until I was ablock away from the house. Will I do?"

"You can't change your eyes, " said Dean boldly, that is boldly for achauffeur, but he knew that Jane knew he wasn't a chauffeur except bychoice, so that made it all right. 

"I couldn't well leave them behind. I understood that I was to have alot of use for my eyes to-day. "

"Yes, indeed, you very likely will. "

"Do you know I hardly recognized you at first and was almost afraid tospeak? I had expected to find you in a car. What was the idea of themotorcycle?"

"It was Chief Fleck's suggestion. The Hoffs will be motoring. People ina car seldom pay any attention to motorcyclists. If we were to followthem in a motor they'd surely notice it. Last week they managed to dodgethe people the Chief assigned to trail them. Maybe as two dustymotorcyclists we'll have better luck. "

"I hope so. Where do you intend waiting to pick them up?"

"Getty Square in Yonkers is the best place. Everybody going north goesthat way. I can be tinkering with the machine while you keep watch forthem. They will not be apt to suspect a pair of Yonkers motorcyclists. There's no danger of missing them. "

"Did you tell the Chief about seeing Mr. Hoff in that uniform?"

"Of course. He did not seem even surprised. Some one had reported to himalready that there was a German going about in British uniform. "

"What had he heard? What was the man doing?" questioned Jane anxiously. Even though she believed Frederic Hoff an alien enemy, even though shewas all but sure that he was a murderer, she kept finding herself alwayshoping for something in his favor. He seemed far too nice andentertaining to be engaged in any nefarious, underhanded, despicablemachinations. Yet she had seen him masquerading as a British officer. She could not doubt the evidence of her own eyes. 

"What happened was this, " continued Dean. "A woman--one of the societylot--was driving down Park Avenue day before yesterday morning in hermotor. It had been raining, and the streets were muddy. At one of thecrossings a British officer stopped to let the car pass. One of thewheels hit a rut, and his uniform was all splashed with mud. He burstinto a string of curses--_German_ curses. "

"He cursed in German?" cried Jane. 

"Sure, " said Dean. "On the impulse of the moment he forgot his rôle andrevealed his true self--an arrogant Prussian officer. "

"What did the woman do?"

"Reported him to the first policeman she met, but by that time he hadvanished, of course. "

"What did Chief Fleck think about it?"

"He didn't seem to take the story seriously. "

"Do you suppose it could have been Mr. Hoff?"

"It must have been he, or one of his gang, at any rate. I don't see whythe Chief does not order his arrest at once. He is far too dangerous tobe at large. "

"There's no real evidence against him yet, " protested Jane, "not againstthe young man, at least. "

"Didn't we both see him in British uniform?"

"Yes, " admitted the girl. 

"Well, that's proof, isn't it? A man with a German name in Britishuniform in wartime can't be up to any good. "

"Still we have no actual evidence against him. We don't know what he wasdoing. "

"I'd arrest him then for murder and get the evidence that he is a spyafterward. It would be easy to fasten the murder of K-19 on him. There'sno doubt that he did that. "

"Has a witness been found?" asked Jane with a quick catch of the breath. Somehow she never had been able to persuade herself that the man nextdoor, whatever else he might be, had really committed thatbrutal murder. 

"No, there's no actual witness, but it could be proved by circumstantialevidence. K-19, the man whose work you took up, had instructions toshadow young Hoff to his home. At two in the morning he relieved anotheroperative. At three you yourself saw him shadowing Hoff. "

"I saw two men on the sidewalk, " corrected Jane. "One of them wasFrederic Hoff. I did not see the other distinctly enough to identifyhim. I saw no murder. I merely saw the two of them run aroundthe corner. "

"Look here, " said Dean sharply, not wholly succeeding in suppressing anote of jealousy in his tones, "I believe you are trying to shieldFrederic Hoff. What is he to you? Has he won you over to his side?"

"You've no right to say such things to me, " cried Jane, neverthelesscoloring furiously. "I've seen the man only three or four times. I amworking just as hard as you are to prove that he is a German spy, if heis one. I am only trying to be fair. I know nothing that convicts him ofmurder. Any testimony I could give would not prove a single thing. "

"Certainly not, if that's the way you feel about it, " snapped Dean. 

After that they rode along together in silence, each busy with thoughtsof their own. Dean was cursing himself for having let his enthusiasm tobe of service to his government lead him into such circumstances. Hefelt that his chauffeur's position handicapped him in his relations withJane, to whom he had been strongly attracted from the beginning. The sonof a distinguished American diplomat, he had been educated for the mostpart in Europe. Friends of his father, when he had offered his servicesto the government, had convinced him that his knowledge of German andFrench would make him most useful in the secret service. Reluctantly hehad consented to take up the work, and as he had gone further andfurther into it and had realized the vast machinery for surreptitiousobservation and dangerous activity that the German agents had secretlyplanted in the United States, he had become fascinated with hisoccupation--that is, until he met Jane Strong. 

His association with her under present circumstances was fast becomingunbearable. Even though he was aware that she knew he was no ordinarychauffeur, he loathed the necessity of having to wear his mask in thepresence of her family. He wanted to be free to come to see her, to sendher flowers and to go about with her. For him to take any advantage oftheir present intimate relations to court her seemed to him little shortof a betrayal of his government, yet at times it was all he could do tokeep from telling her that he adored her. Love's sharp instincts, too, had made him realize that Jane was already beginning to be attracted bythe handsome young German whom they were seeking to entrap, and theknowledge of this fact filled him with helpless rage and jealousy. 

Jane, too, angered and insulted at first by Dean's outburst, had beenendeavoring to analyze her own conduct. Candor reluctantly compelled herto admit that each time she met Frederic Hoff she had found herselfcoming more and more under his spell. He had a wonderful personality, talked entertainingly and ever exhibited an innate gallantry towardwomen in general, and herself in particular, which Jane had founddelightfully interesting. Though she had undertaken wholeheartedly totry to get evidence against him, she was forced to admit to herself nowthat she was secretly delighted that there had been nothing damagingfound as yet, so far as he was concerned, beyond the one fact that hehad been in British uniform. 

In vain she marshalled the circumstances about him, trying to makeherself hate him. He was a German, she told herself. He was an enemy ofher country. He lived with a man who had been proved to be a spy. Hesurreptitiously associated with American naval officers. The dictographtold her that nightly his uncle and he in the seclusion of their hometoasted America's arch enemy, the German Kaiser. More than likely, too, her reason told her, he was a murderer. She ought to hate, to loathe, todespise him, and yet she didn't. She liked him. Whenever he approachedshe could feel her heart beating faster. She looked forward after eachmeeting with him to the time when she would see him again. What, shewondered, could be the matter with her? Assuredly she was a goodpatriotic American girl. Why couldn't she hate Frederic Hoff as she knewhe ought to be hated?

She was still puzzling over her unruly heart when they reached GettySquare, and Dean brought the motorcycle to a stop in one of the sidestreets overlooking Broadway. Dismounting, he looked at his watch andmade a pretense of tinkering with the engine, while Jane kept a sharplookout on the main thoroughfare, by which they expected the Hoffs toapproach. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, more than half an hour theywaited, anxiously scanning each car as it passed. 

"I can't understand it, " said Dean. "They should have been here at leasttwenty minutes ago. I am going to 'phone Carter. He will know what timethey started. "

He had hardly entered an adjacent shop before Jane, still keeping watch, saw the Hoffs' car flash by, going rapidly north. Quickly she sprang outand ran into the store. Dean saw her coming and left the telephonebooth, his finger on his lips in a warning gesture. 

"Don't bother to 'phone, " cried the girl, misunderstanding hismeaning--and thinking only that he was trying to prevent her naming theHoffs. "Come, let's get started. "

Without speaking he hurried from the store and got the motorcycle underway. 

"Have they passed?" he whispered then. 

"Just a moment ago. "

Silently he gathered up speed, racing in the direction the Hoffs' carhad gone, not addressing her again until perhaps two miles from GettySquare they caught up with it close enough to identify the occupants, whereupon he slowed down and followed at a more discreet interval. 

"Be careful about speaking to me when there's any one about, " he warnedJane, almost crossly. "Those clothes make you look like a boy, and yourwalk is all right, but your voice gives you away. Did you see that clerkin the store look at you when you spoke to me? I tried to warn you tosay nothing. "

"I'll be careful hereafter, " said Jane humbly, still depressed by herrecent estimate of herself. "I forgot about my voice. "

Mile after mile they kept up the pursuit without further exchange ofconversation. As they passed through various towns along the road Deanpurposely lagged behind for fear of attracting attention, but always onthe outskirts he raced until he caught up close enough again to the carto identify it, then let his motorcycle lag back again. Thus far theHoffs had given no indication of any intention to leave the main road. 

As the cyclists, far behind, came down a long winding hill on which theyhad managed to catch occasional glimpses of their quarry, Dean, with amuttered exclamation, put on a sudden burst of speed. At a rise in theroad he had seen the Hoffs' car swing sharply to the left. Furiously henegotiated the rest of the hill, arriving at the base just in time tosee them boarding a little ferry the other side of the railroad tracks. While he and Jane were still five hundred yards away the ferryboat, witha warning toot, slipped slowly out into the Hudson. 

In blank despair they turned to face each other. The situation seemedhopeless. They dared not shout or try to detain the boat. That surelywould betray to the Hoffs that they were being followed. DespondentlyDean clambered off the motorcycle and crossed to read a placard on theferryhouse. 

"There's not another boat for half an hour, " he said when he returned. "They have gained that much on us. "

"Perhaps we can pick up their trail on the other side of the river, "suggested Jane. "There are not nearly so many cars passing as therewould be in the city. "

"We can only try, " said Dean gloomily. 

"At least we know where to pick up their trail the next time. "

"Damn them, " cried Dean, "I believe they suspect that they may befollowed and time their arrival here so as to be the last aboard theferryboat. That shuts off pursuit effectually. They make this trip everyweek. I wouldn't be surprised if they have not fixed it with the ferrypeople to pull out as soon as they arrive. A two-dollar bill might dothe trick. I'd give five thousand right now if we were on the other sideof the river. It's the first time--the only time I've ever failedthe Chief. "

"Never mind, " said Jane consolingly, "why can't we be waiting for themat the other side next week when they come up here? They're not apt tosuspect motorcyclists they meet up here with having followed them. "

"Perhaps next week will be too late. "

"I wonder where they are headed for, " said the girl, looking across atthe rapidly receding boat. "Why, look! What are those buildingsover there?"

"That's West Point, " Dean exclaimed, noting for the first time wherethey were. 

"West Point!" she echoed in amazement. 

What mission could the Hoffs have that would take them to the UnitedStates Government military school was the question that perplexed themboth. Could it be that the web of treachery and destruction the Kaiser'sbusy agents were weaving had its deadly strands fastened even here--atWest Point?

CHAPTER X

CARTER'S DISCOVERY

"It's the young man I'm after, " said Chief Fleck. "We have the goods onold Hoff, but we have nothing incriminating against Frederic yet. Thevery fact that he holds aloof from his uncle's activities makes me thinkhe is engaged in more important work. He's just the type the Germanswould select as a director. "

"That's right, " said Carter despondently. "There's nothing except thefact that Dean and the girl think they saw him in British uniform. Whydidn't they follow and make sure?"

"They tried to, " said the chief, "but he gave them the slip. I'minclined to believe they were mistaken. More than likely it was a chanceresemblance. Lots of Britishers of the Anglo-Saxon strain look much likeGermans, and a uniform makes a big difference in a man's appearance. I'mafraid there's nothing in that. "

"But both saw the man--Dean and Miss Strong, " protested Carter. 

"The trouble is, " observed Fleck, "that Dean is getting infatuated withthe girl. A young man in love is not a keen observer. Anything shethinks she has seen he'll be ready to swear to. I hope the girl keepsher head. Lovers don't make good detectives. "

"I have watched them together, " said Carter. "I'll admit he's struck onher, but I don't think she cares a rap for him. She's too keenlyinterested in Frederic Hoff. "

"What do you mean by that?" asked the chief sharply. 

"You can depend on her all right. She's patriotic through and through. She's the kind that would do her duty, no matter what it cost her. All Imeant is that Hoff's the type that interests women. He's got a way abouthim. The fact that he's a spy, in peril most of the time, gives him asort of halo. I never knew a daring young criminal yet that didn't havesome woman, and often several of them, ready to go the limit for him. All the same, I'm sure we can trust Miss Strong. "

"We've got to, " growled Fleck, "for the present at any rate. Iseverything fixed for the search this afternoon? What have you done toget the superintendent out of the way? He's not to be trusted. His nameis Hauser. "

"I've got him fixed. Jimmy Golden, my nephew, who has helped us in acouple of cases, is a lawyer. He has telephoned to Hauser to come to hisoffice this afternoon. "

"Suppose he doesn't go?"

"He'll go all right. Jimmy 'phoned him that it was about a legacy. That's sure bait. Jimmy will make Hauser wait an hour, then keep himtalking half an hour longer. That will give us plenty of time. "

"Then there's the woman--the servant, Lena Kraus. "

"She goes to the roof every Wednesday while the Hoffs are away tosignal. Other days they apparently do the signalling themselves in someway we haven't caught on to yet. She always goes up about threeo'clock and--"

"Suppose she comes down unexpectedly and catches you? We can't have thathappen. That would put them on their guard. "

"She won't surprise us. I've got a trick up my sleeve for preventingthat. "

"Go to it, then, " said the chief, and Carter went on his way rejoicing. 

Ever since he had been informed that the search of the Hoffs' apartmentwas to be intrusted to him Carter had been in a state of exuberantdelight. He fairly revelled in jobs that required a disguise and hewelcomed the opportunity it gave him and his assistants to don theuniform of employees of the electric light company. He even made a pointof arriving that afternoon at the apartment house in the company'srepair wagon, the vehicle having been procured through Fleck'sassistance. 

"There's a dangerous short circuit somewhere in the house, " he announcedto the superintendent's wife. 

"My husband isn't here, " she answered unsuspectingly. "Do you know wherethe switch-boards are?"

"We can find them, " said Carter. "We'll start at the top floor and workdown. "

Always thorough in his methods of camouflage he actually did go throughseveral apartments, making a pretense of inspecting switch-boards andwiring, all the while keeping watch for the time when old Lena went tothe roof. The moment she had entered the elevator to ascend with herbasket of linen, Carter and his aides were at the Hoff door. Equippedwith the key Dean had manufactured they had no difficulty in entering. 

"Bob, " said Carter to one of his men, "we haven't much time, and there'sa lot to be done. You take the servant's room and the kitchen, and you, Williams, take the old man's quarters. I'll take care of the young man'sbedroom, and we'll tackle the living room and dining room later. "

Thoroughly experienced in this sort of work all three of them set atonce to their tasks. Carter, standing for a moment in the doorway, surveyed Frederic Hoff's quarters, taking in all the details of thefurnishings. Both the sitting room and the bedroom adjoining wereequipped in military simplicity, with hardly an extra article offurniture or adornment, chairs, tables, everything of the plainest sort. Moving first into the bedroom, Carter quickly investigated pillows andmattress, but in neither place did he find what he sought, evidence of asecret hiding place. He rummaged for a while through the drawers of twotables, carefully restoring the contents, but discovering nothing thataroused his suspicions. The books lying about on the tables and onshelves he examined one by one, noting their titles, examining theirbindings for hidden pockets, holding them up by their backs and shakingthe leaves. There was nothing there. Lifting the rugs and moving thefurniture about he made a careful survey of the flooring, seeking tofind some panel that might conceal a hiding place. Once or twice incorners he went so far as to make soundings but apparently the wholefloor was intact. His search in the bath room was equally profitless, and at last he turned to the clothes press. As he opened the door anexclamation of amazement burst from his lips. 

There, concealed behind some other suits, was the complete outfit of aBritish cavalry captain. 

"That's one on the Chief, " he said to himself. "It must have been Hoffthat Dean and Miss Strong saw. I wonder where he got it?"

With a grim smile of satisfaction he devoted himself to going carefullythrough all the pockets and over all the seams of the clothing in thecloset. He even felt into the toe of the shoes and examined the soles. There was nothing to be found anywhere, but he felt satisfied. Theuniform in itself was to his mind damning proof of the young man'soccupation. 

No explanation that could be given by a young man of German name, eventhough he was American-born, or had an American birth certificate, couldpossibly account for his having a British uniform. It was prima facieevidence that Frederic Hoff was a spy. What puzzled Carter most was howHoff managed to smuggle the uniform in and out of the apartment withoutbeing observed. For more than two weeks now every parcel that hadarrived at the house of the Hoffs had been searched before it wasdelivered. The house had been constantly under the strictestsurveillance. It was out of the question for him to have worn theuniform in or out as it could not be easily concealed underother clothing. 

"There's somebody else in this place in league with the Hoffs, " hemuttered to himself. "I wonder who it can be. "

He looked at his watch. The old servant had been out now nearly half anhour. She was likely to return at any moment. He must work quickly. Swiftly he went through the dresser drawers but without satisfactoryresult. There was no time for him to do more. He hastened into theliving room and summoned his aides. 

"Find anything, Bob?" he asked. 

"Not a thing. "

"Beat it up to the roof, " he directed. "Have you those field glasseswith you?"

"Sure, " replied the operative, "and the handkerchiefs, too. "

"All right. Get up there before she starts down. Begin putting uphandkerchiefs and appear to be watching the river. That will mix her upso she will not know what to do. She will not dare to leave the roofwhile you are there. When we're through I'll send the elevator man upfor you with the message that we have found the short circuit. "

He turned to the other operative. 

"Find anything, Williams?"

"Only this. "

Carter's face brightened as his assistant held out to him two copies ofan afternoon newspaper. In each of them a square was missing wheresomething had been cut out. 

"I found them in the waste-paper basket by the old man's desk, " the manexplained, "and there was some ashes there--ashes of paper--as if he hadburned up something. Maybe it was what he cut out of those papers. Icould not tell. "

"We've got to get copies of those papers at once and see what it was. Come on, I'm going to take them to the Chief. We can get the papers onthe way down. "

Calling the other operative from the roof, before he even had had timeto attract the attention of Lena Kraus by his activities, they hastenedback to the office, where Fleck and Carter together scanned the twopapers from which the clippings had been taken. 

"Why, " said Carter disappointedly, "it is just a couple ofadvertisements he cut out--advertisements for a tooth paste. There'snothing in that. "

"Don't be too sure, " warned Fleck. "If a man cuts out one tooth-pasteadvertisement, the natural presumption would be that he wished toremind himself to buy some. When he cuts out two, he must have somespecial interest in that particular tooth paste. We'll have to find outwhat his interest is. "

"Maybe he owns it, " suggested Carter. 

"Perhaps, " said Fleck, as he began studying the advertisements, "but itwould not surprise me if these advertisements contained some sort ofcode messages. "

"Messages in advertisements, " exclaimed Carter incredulously. 

"Why not? The Germans have hundreds of spies at work here in this cityand all over the country. What would be an easier method ofcommunicating orders to them than by code messages concealed inadvertising. They have done it before. When the German armies got intoFrance they found their way placarded in advance with much usefulinformation in harmless looking posters advertising a certain brand ofchocolate. I'd be willing to bet that every one of these advertisementscarries a code message. I've noticed that these advertisements, allpeculiarly worded, have been running for some time. I never thought ofhooking them up with German propaganda, but, see, it is a German firmthat inserts them. "

Carefully he cut out the two advertisements and laid them side by sideon his desk. Turning to Carter he said:

"Go at once to see Mr. Sprague, the publisher of this paper. Get him togive you a copy of each paper that has contained an advertisement ofthis sort in the last six months. Find out what agency places theadvertising. Tell him I want to know. He'll understand. We have workedtogether before. "

Alone in his office, Fleck bent with wrinkled brow over the first of thetwo advertisements, which read:

 REMEMBER

 Please, that our new paste, DENTO, will stop decay of your teeth. Sound teeth are passports to good health and comfort. Now, no business man can risk ill health. It is closely allied with failure. The teeth if not watched are quickly gone. 

 USE DENTO

 A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the teeth, prepared and sold only by the Auer Dental Company, New York. 

He tried all the methods of solving cipher letters that he thought of. He drew diagonals this way and that across the advertisement. He triedreading it backward. He tried reading every other word, every thirdword, both backward and forward. Nothing that he did revealed anycombination of words that made sense. 

"Passports, " he muttered to himself, "that's it. If there is a messagethere it must be something about passports. "

In despair he turned to the other advertisement. It read:

 DON'T

 Forget it is imperative for one and all to use cleansing agents on teeth that leave no bad results. 

 "Ship more of that wonder-working paste immediately. Workers, employers, wives, all ready to commend it. Friday's supply gone, " writes a druggist to whom a big shipment was made last week. 

 USE DENTO

 A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the teeth, prepared and sold only by the Auer Dental Company, New York. 

Fleck's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he read this advertisementand caught the phrase "wonder-working. " He felt sure now that he was onthe right track. He recalled that Jane Strong over the dictograph hadheard old Hoff speak of something that he called the "wonder-worker. " Assoon as Carter returned with the other advertisements that had beenappearing he felt positive that he would be able to unravel the cipher. Two words he was sure of--"passports" and "wonder-working. " Onefootprint does not lead anywhere, but two do, and given threefootprints, a pathway is indicated. 

His telephone rang sharply. He turned to answer it, suspecting it mustbe Carter with some message about the papers he had sent for. 

"Hello, " he called. 

"Hello, " came a faint voice, as if the speaker were using long distance, and had a bad connection, "is this Fleck?"

"Yes, Fleck, " he answered, "who is this?"

"Dean speaking, " came the voice faintly. 

"Dean, " cried Fleck, excitedly, "yes, yes. What is it, Dean?"

He had not expected to hear any results from the expedition that Deanand Jane Strong had undertaken until late in the afternoon after theHoffs returned. The fact that Dean was calling him up now would seem toindicate that something of importance had happened. 

"I'm telephoning from a doctor's house near Nyack, " said Dean. 

"What's that? Speak louder. "

"I'm here in Doctor Spencer's office near Nyack with a broken arm, " Deancontinued. "We've had an accident. Somebody's auto smashed into us, I guess. "

"Miss Strong? Where is she? Is she hurt?" asked the chief anxiously. 

"I don't know. She has vanished. "

Jane Strong vanished! The chief's figure became suddenly tensed. That itwas more than a mere automobile accident he felt certain now. Shadowingthe Hoffs was an occupation that seemed unusually perilous. Thereflashed into his mind the fate of K-19--murdered almost at the Hoffs'door. And now two more of his operatives, one disabled and the othermysteriously missing. 

"Quick, " he said over the 'phone. "Tell me briefly just what happened. Speak as loudly as you can. "

"We got half an hour behind at the West Point Ferry, " Dean's voice wenton, still weak and low as if he were speaking with difficulty. "We hadsome trouble getting started on the trail again but finally succeeded. We were dashing along about ten or twelve miles south of West Point whenan automobile coming out of a cross road crashed right into us. It musthave knocked me unconscious. I didn't remember anything more till Ifound myself here. I came to as the doctor was setting my arm. I 'phonedas soon as they would let me. "

"Who brought you there?"

"I don't know. All they know here was that some couple in an automobileleft me here. They said they passed just after an auto hit mymotorcycle. They said the auto didn't stop. "

"And Miss Strong--did they say anything about her?"

"Not a word. The people here were under the impression I was ridingalone. "

"All right, " said the chief. "I'll get some one up there at once tolook after you and pick up any clues. "

As he hung up the 'phone, his forehead wrinkled into little lines ofabsorbed concentration. He sat at his desk for fully five minutes almostmotionless, trying to figure it out. What did the accident to Deansignify? How was the sudden disappearance of Jane Strong to be accountedfor? Had she fled from the scene after Dean was disabled, fearing thather name might be coupled with his in an account of the accident? It didnot seem like the sort of thing she would do. The impression she hadmade on him was that of a girl of high resolve who would be apt to carrythrough anything she undertook, cost what it may. Yet what could havehappened to her? If she, too, had been injured, why was she not withDean? If she was not injured, why had she not communicated with theoffice? Who were the couple that had brought Dean to the doctor'soffice? Why had not the doctor taken their names and addresses?

What part had the Hoffs played in the accident? Had they purposely rundown the motorcycle? If they had found out they were being shadowedthey would not have hesitated, he felt sure, to resort to such murderoustactics. Had they not already one dastardly murder to their record? Hemust find out when the Hoffs arrived home. They would not be due for anhour or two, but he would caution the operatives watching the house tokeep more vigilant watch. Reaching for his 'phone he called up thehead-quarters of the operatives. 

"Report to me at once, " he said to the operative who answered his call, "the minute the Hoffs have arrived home. "

"The old man is home now, " the operative answered. 

"What's that?" cried Fleck. 

"He came in alone five minutes ago on foot. The young man is not homeyet with the automobile. "

"Let me know as soon as he arrives, " said Fleck curtly, turning awayfrom the 'phone. 

He was more perplexed than ever. What could have happened? Where wasyoung Hoff with the motor? Where was Jane Strong? Why had shedisappeared after Dean had been hurt? How had she vanished? The Hoffs'affairs had assuredly taken a new and bothersome turn, over which Flecksat puzzling many minutes. 

Where was Jane Strong? In the answer to that question, he decided atlength, lay the crux of the whole situation. 

CHAPTER XI

JANE'S ADVENTURE

For more than two hours Thomas Dean and Jane had been vainly circlingabout West Point on their motorcycle, striving to pick up some clue thatwould put them once more on the trail of the Hoffs' car. They had notdared to ask too many questions of any one near the ferry, fearful lestthe people they were pursuing might have a guard posted there to warnthem in case of a possible pursuit, yet cautious inquiries seemed toindicate that all the automobiles on the ferryboat which had precededhad been headed to the north. 

"There's only one thing we can do, " Dean had said despondently. "We havegot to run out each road we come to until we reach some shop or garagewhere the people would be likely to have noticed the Hoffs. They mayhave stopped somewhere, or we may meet some one coming toward us whowill remember having passed them. "

"It seems like a wild-goose chase, " said Jane, "but I suppose there isnothing else to do. "

The strain of their bitter disappointment was telling on both of them. Each felt inclined to blame the other for their having fallen so farbehind. They rode along in silence, their nerves becoming more and morekeyed up as their hopes grew less. At garage after garage they paused toquestion the employees. 

"Did a big gray car with two men, an old man with a beard and a youngman driving, pass this way about an hour ago?"

"I don't remember any such car, " was the invariable answer. 

Time and time again they repeated their query, wording it always thesame, except for lengthening the interval of time in which the car mighthave passed, for the afternoon was rapidly passing. In their circuitthey had now reached the roads pointing to the southward. 

"We'll try this one more garage, " said Dean, as they approached awayside shed bearing a large sign "Gasoline. "

"I fear it is only wasting time, " said Jane wearily. 

"Don't you want the Hoffs caught?" snapped her companion. 

"Of course I do, " she retorted heatedly, "but I don't see you catchingthem. "

"I believe you are half glad of it, " snarled her escort as he broughtthe machine to a stop and repeated his usual question. 

"Sure there was a car with two men in it like you describe passed here, "the man replied to their amazement and delight. "They stopped here forgas, as they generally do. About three hours ago, I guess itmusta been. "

Dean shot a triumphant glance at Jane. 

"An old man with a gray beard and a smooth-shaven young mandriving--does that describe them?" he repeated. 

"That's them, " said the garage proprietor. "They come through here everyfew days, always about the same time. "

"Where do they go?" questioned Dean eagerly, feeling at last that thescent was growing hot. 

The man shook his head in a puzzled way. 

"I've often wondered about that. They're always heading south andappear to be in a powerful hurry, but the funny part of it is I ain'tnever seen them coming back. "

"Do you know their names?"

"No, I can't say I do, though it seems as if I'd heard one of themcalled Fred. I can't say which it was. "

"Do they always come by on the same day--on Wednesday?" asked Jane, forgetful once more of Dean's warning to let him do the talking lest hervoice should betray her sex. 

"Come to think of it, " said the man, apparently noticing nothingunusual, "I guess it always is on a Wednesday they come by. "

"Is the number of their car anything like this?" asked Dean, exhibitingan entry in his notebook. 

"I couldn't say, " said the man, studying the figures. "I know it is aNew York license, and the number ends with two nines like this one does. What might you be wanting them for?"

He spoke to a cloud of dust, for Dean had started up the motorcyclebefore he finished speaking and already was speeding away. 

"Where now?" asked Jane. 

"I don't know, " he answered frankly, "I only know we are going thedirection the Hoffs went, and I want to gain on them before they get toofar ahead. The chap back there had told us all he knew and was beginningto get curious, so I thought it better to vamoose. "

"It's funny about his never seeing them coming back. "

"Probably there is nothing mysterious about that. I have a notion theyalways come up one side the river and down the other, taking the 125thStreet ferry home. That would not be a bad plan to help them in eludingtoo curious observers. All these German spies are trained to leave asblind a trail behind them as possible. The thing we have got to discoveris what brought them up here. We've just got to find out theirdestination. "

"I am afraid there is little chance of our doing that, " insisted Jane. "We've nothing to go on. "

"We've learned something. We know that their destination is somewherebetween here and Fort Lee on this side of the river. That narrows downthe search considerably. That's more, too, than anybody else that theChief has had on their trail has learned. Something tells me that we aregetting warm right now. Obviously the place they come to must be nearerWest Point than it is New York. They would hardly take too roundabout acourse, even for the sake of hiding their tracks. Keep a sharp lookoutfor tire tracks leaving the main road. "

The route they were following quickly led them into a sparsely inhabitedmountainous district and instead of the concreted state highway theyfound themselves on a hilly dirt road, full of ruts and loose stonesthat made travel difficult. At times it was all Dean could do to managethe machine, so that he had to leave most of the task of observing theby-ways to Jane. For more than two miles they had seen neither house norbarn. Once or twice they came upon little used lanes leading off throughthe woods, but none of them showed any traces of the recent passing ofan automobile. 

As they came dashing around a curve on a steep down-grade, where hardlymore than the semblance of a road had been cut into the hillside, Janecaught her breath sharply. Above the roar of their own motor she thoughtshe heard some other noise, something that sounded like another carnear-by; yet neither behind nor ahead was there another automobilein sight. 

"Listen, " she cried sharply. 

Dean started to slow down, but it was too late. Out of a cut in thehillside, half screened by a clump of bushes at the side on which Janewas riding, a great gray motor shot out just as they were passing. Janecaught just one glimpse of the man on the driver's seat. It was FredericHoff, frantically twisting at the wheel in an effort to avert thethreatened collision. There came a thud and a crash as the forward partof the Hoff car struck the motorcycle a glancing blow, overturning itcompletely. Too terrified even to shriek, Jane felt herself beingcatapulted out of her seat and flung high in air. Then came a blank. 

Her companion did not escape so easily. The heavy machine crashed overon him and dragged him several yards. His head, as he landed in theroadway, struck a stone, and the motorcycle itself pinned him to theearth by its weight, one of his arms doubled up in an alarming fashion, as he lay there completely senseless. 

Jane fortunately had landed on some soft grass, though with sufficientforce to leave her badly stunned. As she lay there, a boyish figure inher disguise, her senses began gradually to revive, although it was sometime before she opened her eyes. 

Vaguely, as from a great distance, she began to hear voices, and itseemed to her that they were German voices, arguing about something. Thevoices seemed angry and excited. At first she did not bother about them. She was wondering how badly she was hurt. Her arms and limbs had acurious sort of deadness about them, a detached sensation, as if theybelonged to some one else. She wondered if she was paralyzed and darednot try to move them, fearful lest she might find that it was theterrible truth. 

The voices--the German voices--came nearer, became louder and morestrident. She struggled to collect her thoughts. Where was she? What hadhappened? Where was Thomas Dean? Gradually some memory of the accidentcame to her. They had been run down by the Hoffs' car. The voices shekept hearing were those of the two Hoffs, angrily wrangling aboutsomething. As she revived further she became acutely conscious that herhead seemed to be splitting. What was it the Hoffs were arguing about?Still lying there motionless, with her eyes closed, endeavoring tocollect herself, she tried to listen to what they were saying. 

"I tell you there is not time. I must hurry. Every minute is precious. Icannot delay my work for these swine, no matter if they both are dyingor dead, " old Otto was angrily shouting with many German oaths. 

"I tell you, " Frederic was saying, --his voice was calmer butdetermined, --"we've got to get these people to a doctor. It's tooheartless. I will not leave them here. "

"And betray us at the last moment, when our plans are all ready, "snarled old Otto. 

"There is less danger if we bundle them into the car and take them withus than if we leave them here, " protested Frederic. "Two bodies righthere at the entrance would be fine, _nicht wahr?_"

His last remark appealed to old Otto. 

"That is so, " he muttered. "It is not safe. We must hide the bodies, both of them, yes?"

The bodies! Jane decided that Dean must have been killed and that theythought that she, too, was dead. As she strove to open her eyes shecould hear Frederic protesting. 

"It's inhuman, " he cried. "They both are hurt, but perhaps still alive. We must take them to a hospital. "

"And endanger all our plans, " stormed old Otto. "Throw them into thewoods. "

"We'll do nothing of the sort, " Frederic insisted, his voice becomingunusually stern and severe. "I'm going to get both of these people to adoctor at once, I tell you. "

With effort Jane opened her eyes and looked cautiously about. Where wasThomas Dean? How badly had he been hurt? The Hoffs' automobile wasslowly backing up. As she looked old Otto sprang out of it and rightedthe motorcycle. As he did so Jane saw the body of Dean lying senselessbeneath it, but to him the old German paid no attention. He wasexamining the motorcycle and still sputtering that the swine should beleft to rot. 

"We are going to take them with us in the car, " directed Frederic in avoice of authority. "I command it. "

At the word old Otto's mutterings ceased, though he shot a black look atthe younger man. 

"This machine, " he suggested, "it is not hurt. I will take it and do ourwork. There is haste. You remain with the car. Do what you will withthese people. "

"Go then, " said his nephew curtly. "You can take the train at the firststation and make time. "

As the old man mounted the motorcycle and sped away Frederic sprang fromthe car, and approaching the spot where Dean's body lay, began making anexamination of his injuries. 

"Scalp wound, perhaps fractured skull, broken arm, " Jane heard himsaying aloud to himself. She noted curiously that as soon as he was leftto himself he began speaking in English. 

He left Dean and approached her. As he came nearer she closed her eyesagain, trying to plan some course of action. Her head was throbbing sothat she found it impossible to think. She felt toward young Hoff awarmth of gratitude for not having gone off and left them helpless ashis uncle had insisted. Even though he was an enemy of her country, aman to be hated, a spy, she could not help being glad for his presencethere. What would she have done without him, with Dean lying thereinjured and helpless on this lonely mountain road?

"This chap seems only stunned, " she heard him say as he bent over her, then as he looked closer, she heard him exclaim:

"My God, it's Jane!"

In an instant he was down at her side on his knees. Tenderly one of hisarms went about her and lifted her head. 

"Miss Strong, Jane, Jane, " he implored, "Jane dear, speak to me. "

Stunned though she still was a flush crept into Jane's cheeks at theunexpected term of endearment, though she still kept her eyes closed. Gently he laid her back on the turf and hastened to the automobile, returning with a flask which he held to her lips. Slowly Jane openedher eyes. 

"Thank God, " he cried. "Jane dear, tell me you are not hurt. "

For a moment she lay there, staring wonderingly at him as he bent overher imploringly, the tenderest of anxiety showing in every line of hisface. Unprotestingly she let him slip his strong arm once more under herhead. In her dazed brain there was a strange conflict of peculiaremotions. He was a German, a spy, --she hated him, and yet it waswonderfully comforting to her to have him there. Under othercircumstances she could have loved him. He was so handsome, so masterfuland so kind, too. He cared for her. Had he not called her "Jane, dear"in his amazement at finding her lying there? But she must not letherself think of him in that way. It was her duty, her sacred duty totrap him, to thwart his nefarious plans against her country. She must doher duty just as her soldier brother was doing his in far away France. 

Still supported by Hoff's arms she sat up, trying to collect herthoughts and gingerly testing the movement of her arms and limbs. 

"Tell me, " he cried again, "Jane, dear, are you hurt?"

"I don't think so, " she managed to say. 

With his assistance she got up on her feet and walked uncertainly tothe car, shuddering as she looked at Dean's crumpled senseless body. 

"Your friend, " said Hoff, as he placed her in the forward seat andwrapped a rug about her, "I am afraid, is badly hurt. "

"It's our chauffeur, Thomas Dean, " she explained confusedly. 

She had been wondering what she could say to Frederic to account for herpresence there. It was unconventional at least for a girl to bemotorcycling about the country dressed in man's clothes with achauffeur. Hoff must surely realize now that she had been shadowing him. She felt almost certain that he had known it from the very first, sincethat afternoon when he had overheard her telephoning about the "fifthbook. " Yet never by word or manner had he betrayed the fact that hesuspected her. Beyond his customary reserve in speaking about himself orhis activities, there was nothing to indicate that he knew anything yet. Whatever she told him now she must be careful not to betray her mission. Perhaps even in spite of all that had happened she still might be ableto aid Chief Fleck in trapping them. 

But did she really want to trap Frederic Hoff? Had Thomas Dean's bittercharge that she was trying to protect him been true? Frederic Hoff lovedher. She, yes--she had to admit it to herself--she was beginning to lovehim. Could she go on with it?

Hoff had been busy lifting the unconscious Dean into the tonneau. As shewatched him as he lifted up the body unaided she was conscious ofadmiration of his great strength. 

"Will he die?" she whispered. 

"I don't know, " he answered. "He is badly hurt. We must get him to adoctor at once. "

He stopped a moment longer to examine the car. Fortunately the glancingblow that it had struck the motorcycle had done no more damage thanshatter one of the lamps and bend the mud guard. Soon they were movingrapidly in the direction of New York. 

"I think, " said Hoff, "we had better leave him in the care of the firstdoctor we come to. We can say that he is an injured motorcyclist wefound lying in the road. "

"And me?" asked Jane, almost fearfully. 

"I'll take you back to the city with me. "

"No, " she replied, "that won't do. I ought to stay by him. Besides, ifI return with you, it will be hard to explain. "

He turned to look inquiringly at her and for a moment drove on insilence. 

"There's nothing more you can do for the man once he is in competentmedical hands, except to notify his people. Is he married?"

"No, " said Jane, "he's not married. I can tell his friends. "

"Did your parents know about"--he hesitated--"about this trip with thechauffeur?"

Jane blushed guiltily, wondering what he suspected of her. She hopedthat he did not think she had a habit of going off on such journeys withthe chauffeur. Even though the man at her side was officially her enemyshe resented being put into a position that would cheapen her inhis eyes. 

"No, " she replied, "they knew nothing about it. "

Hoff drove on in silence. She had feared that he might ask her moreembarrassing questions, might insist on knowing where she had been goingwhen the accident occurred. A panic seized her. What if he should askher? What could she tell him? He had a masterful way about him. If hetook it into his head to make her confess she realized that she wouldhave a struggle to keep from telling him everything. She made up hermind that she would not, she dare not answer any more questions. 

When he spoke again she was relieved to hear a suggestion instead of aquery. 

"When we have crossed the ferry, " he said, "you can put on a dust coatto hide your costume, and I will send you home in a taxi. Will that beall right?"

"That will do nicely, " she replied, gratefully conscious that he wasendeavoring to plan so that her part in the afternoon's adventures neednot become public. 

Nevertheless she waited nervously while Hoff and the doctor carried Deaninto the doctor's home. What if the doctor's suspicions should bearoused, and he should insist on knowing all the details of theaccident? To her astonishment the doctor seemed to accept Hoff's briefrecital of finding an injured motorcyclist on the road without question. Perhaps if she had seen the amount of the bills Hoff left to care forthe chauffeur's treatment she might have understood better. 

Yet unconscious though Dean had lain all the way, as they resumed theirjourney without him, she felt a sudden sense of dread at being alone inthe car with Frederic Hoff. It was not that she longer feared he wouldendeavor to make her tell her reasons for the expedition. She was afraidthat with just the two of them alone in the car he might seize theopportunity to declare his affection for her. 

But, to her amazement, he hardly spoke a word to her on all the rest ofthe journey homeward. Once in a while as she ventured a glance in hisdirection, annoyed a little perhaps by this neglect of her, she saw onlya strong face set in lines of thought, his brow wrinkled in deepperplexity, and his blue eyes looking steadily at the road ahead--and atsomething far, far beyond. 

Save for an occasional solicitous question about her comfort he did notspeak again until just after he had put her in a taxi at the ferry. AsJane was trying to say her thanks he leaned forward unexpectedly, histall frame blocking the whole doorway. 

"Jane, " he said, his voice vibrant with emotion, "Jane, you must trustme. Everything must come out all right. Some day--some day soon when wehave won--I am coming to find you and tell you that I love you. "

"When we have won!" Jane shuddered and drew back in the car, aflame withsudden wrath. 

She had read and had heard often of the unspeakable conceit of thePrussians. She knew that they regarded themselves as supermen who couldnot be defeated. Her challenged American pride rose to battle. As sherode home she was sure now that more than she hated anything else in theworld she hated Frederic Hoff, the spy, the German, who had dared toboast to her that they expected to win. 

CHAPTER XII

PUZZLES AND PLANS

Chief Fleck had spent a sleepless night trying to put two and twotogether. Instead of the answer being "four" as it should have been eachtime he completed his figuring the result was "zero. " Time and again hemustered the facts into columns, only to succeed in puzzling himselfthe more. 

Two German spies, the Hoffs, had set out together in their motor ontheir usual mysterious Wednesday mission. Two other persons, two of hismost intelligent operatives, Thomas Dean and Jane Strong, had set out ona motorcycle to shadow them. 

What had happened?

Otto Hoff had returned to his apartment on foot, hours before his usualtime, seemingly much perturbed about something. 

Frederic Hoff had arrived back at the apartment, also on foot, somehours later than usual, and the motor had not been returned to itsusual garage. Frederic Hoff had appeared to be unusually elated aboutsomething. 

Thomas Dean was in a doctor's home somewhere up the Hudson with a brokenarm and a bad scalp wound and was unable to tell what had become ofeither Miss Strong or the motorcycle. 

Jane Strong had arrived home in a taxicab half an hour before FrederickHoff, apparently unhurt but in a most peculiar condition of mind. WhenChief Fleck had called her on the 'phone she had refused to answer anyquestions. The best he could get out of her was a promise that she wouldcome to his office in the morning. 

From this situation Fleck's shrewd and experienced mind had been whollyunable to make any satisfactory deductions. That something unforeseenand unusual had happened to the Hoffs he was certain. It was the firsttime on a Wednesday that they had not returned together. Whatever it wasthat had happened it had depressed old Otto and had been a cause ofelation to Frederic. What could it have been? That was the poser. 

Coupled with this was the annoying fact of Jane Strong's suddenreticence. Hitherto he had found her at all times ready and eagerwhenever he called on her--ready to do anything he asked her, or to tellhim everything. Why had she suddenly balked? He recalled that Dean hadhinted, and Carter, too, that the girl was becoming interested in theyounger of the Germans, yet he scouted the possibility of Jane havinggone over to the enemy's side. A girl of her stock, living with herparents, with a brother fighting in France, never could be guilty ofdisloyalty, even if she were in love. Yet how was her disinclination totalk to be accounted for? After he had received a report that she was athome he had waited, expecting her to call him up. When she had not doneso, he had called her. She had been positively curt and decisive. Shehad nothing to say to him, she had replied, at present. Dean was safe. She would come to his office in the morning. There was nothing for himto do but to await her arrival. 

He was expecting Carter, too. He had sent him to Nyack the eveningbefore as soon as he had learned of Dean's whereabouts. Carter was tofind out everything that Dean had learned and report as soon as hecould. It was Carter who arrived first. 

"Dean doesn't know what happened to him, nor where the girl went, " saidCarter. "They had lost the Hoffs' trail at the Garrison ferry, as hetold you over the 'phone. They had to wait there half an hour foranother boat. They scouted around West Point, and nearly three hoursafterward they picked up the trail heading toward New York. About tenmiles south of West Point they were clipping along a mountain road whensomething happened. Dean is not sure whether he hit a stone in the roador whether an automobile struck them. He was knocked unconscious anddidn't remember anything more until he came to and found the doctorsetting his arm. "

"Who took him to the doctor's?"

"It was a couple, the doctor said, who explained that they had foundDean lying in the road under his wrecked motorcycle. The doctor couldnot remember what the couple looked like. Said he had been too busylooking after the injured man. I did worm out of him, though, that theman had left two hundred dollars with him to take care of Dean. "

"That's funny, " said the chief. 

"It sure is, " said Carter. "Looks like hush money to me. What does thegirl say?"

"Nothing yet, " said Fleck. "She wouldn't talk at all last night, butshe's coming here at ten. "

"That's funny, " said Carter. "Why wouldn't she talk?"

"I don't know yet, " said Fleck decisively, "but I am going to find out. Do you really suppose that she has fallen in love with young Hoff?"

Carter shook his head. 

"Dean thought so, and I know that Dean was in love with her himself, butI don't know. I'd bank on that girl somehow, even if she is in love. "

"There she comes now, " said the chief as he heard the door of the outeroffice open. 

As Jane entered she faced the two men almost defiantly. She too had hada sleepless night. Although she herself had been physically uninjured inthe accident the shock to her nerves had left her unstrung, and besidesshe had been bothering all through the dark hours as to how much of whathad happened in the last few hours it was her duty to tell toChief Fleck. 

As her personal relations with Frederic Hoff and her feelings toward himhad in no way affected her sense of duty she felt that it wasunnecessary for her to report the declaration of love he had made toher. Surely an affair that involved only the heart was her own propertyso long as she faithfully reported anything and everything that mightlead to the exposure of the Hoffs' plots. She could not see that it wasany of Chief Fleck's business, nor her country's either, if FredericHoff had fallen in love with her. At any rate it would be utterlyimpossible for her to make any statement about her own feelings towardhim. Even in her own heart and mind she was not quite sure what theywere. From the first his forceful personality had had great charm forher. His obvious interest in her she had found delightful andflattering. When she recalled how gallantly he had insisted on remainingto rescue Dean and herself, even before he knew her identity, she wasfilled with admiration for him. Yet always matched against all that shefound lovable in him was the knowledge that he was a German, a traitor, a spy, perhaps a murderer, and at times she felt that she hated him witha hatred that never could be overcome. 

"Well, " said Fleck, studying her countenance, "what have you to tellus?"

"How is Dean?" she asked. "Will he live?"

Fleck and Carter exchanged glances. Was she, they wondered, reallyconcerned in the handsome young chauffeur's welfare, or had she merelyput the question to gain time in framing what she was going to say?

"I just left him, " said Carter, in response to an almost imperceptiblenod from the chief; "he's all right except for a scalp wound and abroken arm. "

"I'm glad, " said the girl impulsively. 

"What happened to him?" asked Carter. 

"Don't you know? The Hoffs' automobile hit us and overturned themotorcycle. "

"The Hoffs' car!" cried Fleck and Carter together. 

"Yes, I thought you knew. "

"Tell us everything, " demanded Fleck. "Where did it happen? Did theyrun you down purposely?"

"I don't think so; in fact I am sure they didn't. It was entirelyaccidental. "

"Where did it happen? All Dean could remember was that you had picked uptheir trail about ten miles south of West Point. He could not tell howthe accident occurred. He didn't even mention the Hoffs or seem tosuspect that they were anywhere near at the time. "

"I don't think he saw their car at all, " Jane explained. "I caught justa glimpse of it before we were crashed into. We were on a mountain roadgoing down a steep hill when their motor shot out of a deep cut just aswe were passing. "

"What happened then?"

"I must have been stunned for a moment or two. When I regained my sensesthe Hoffs' car had stopped, and Frederic was backing the car to wherethe accident had happened. His uncle was storming at him for stopping. He wanted Frederic to go on and leave us there, but Frederic wouldn't doit, and they quarrelled. Frederic won out by pointing out that twobodies lying at the entrance would arouse suspicion. "

"At the entrance to what?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. I think I could find the place again. "

"We've got to find it, " said Carter. 

"Indeed we have, " Jane agreed, "and quickly, too. I fear we are going tobe too late. Old Mr. Hoff seemed to be in terrible haste and spoke oftheir plans being nearly completed. "

"Go on, " said Fleck quietly, "tell us the rest. "

"Frederic Hoff stayed behind to pick us up, and the old man went off onthe motorcycle. I heard them talking about his taking a train at thenearest station. "

"What did young Hoff do when he found it was you lying there?"

"He seemed surprised and startled. "

"What did he say?"

Jane colored and hesitated. There rose in her mind the picture of histall figure bending over her, with anguish in his eyes, with expressionsof endearment on his lips. She could not, she would not tell them whathe had said. 

"He asked if I was hurt. "

"Is that all?"

Again she blushed and hesitated. 

"That's all. "

"Did he not seem amazed at finding you there? Did he not ask you toaccount for your presence there?"

"No, " said the girl, firmly, "he didn't. "

"Didn't he question you at all?"

"No, " she insisted, "he was busy getting Dean into the car. He wasunconscious, and it looked as if he was badly hurt. "

"Queer, mighty queer, " muttered Carter to himself. 

"Didn't he ask you who Dean was?" questioned Fleck. 

"I explained that he was our chauffeur. He may have known him by sightat any rate. "

"Go on. "

"We stopped at the house of the first doctor we came to and left Deanthere, and then Mr. Hoff brought me on home in the car. At the ferry heput me into a taxi. "

"What did you talk about on the trip home?" asked Fleck suspiciously. "Didn't he try to pump you?"

"We hardly talked at all. He seemed concerned only in getting me homewithout its becoming known that I had been in an accident. "

"Is that all?" asked the chief. She could see by his manner that hemistrusted her, that he felt that she was keeping something back. 

"We hardly exchanged a dozen words, " she insisted. 

Fleck shook his head in a puzzled way. 

"I can't understand it at all, " he said. "Old Otto is a common enoughtype of German, painstaking, methodical, stupid, stubborn, ready tocommit any crime for Prussia, but the young fellow is of far differentmaterial. He has brains and daring and initiative. He is far more alertand more dangerous. I cannot understand his finding you there and nottrying to discover what you were doing. "

"I can't understand that either, " Jane admitted. 

"There's no doubt in my mind, " the chief continued, "that Frederic Hoffis the real conspirator, the head of the plotters. "

"Why do you say that?" asked Jane quickly. "What did you find out whenyou searched the apartment yesterday?"

She felt certain from the manner in which he spoke that he must now havesome damning evidence of Frederic Hoff's guilt. He was not in the habitof making decisions without proof. 

"We found, " said Fleck, his keen eyes fixed on her face as if trying toread her innermost thoughts, "a British officer's uniform hanging inFrederic Hoff's closet, proof positive that he is a dangerous spy. "

"And, " said Carter, pointing to the two clippings lying on Fleck's desk, "in the old man's waste-paper basket we found those. "

Jane picked up the clippings and examined them curiously. 

"What are they?" she asked, looking from one to the other; "ciphermessages of some sort?"

"We think so, " said Carter. "We don't know yet. "

"I've noticed these peculiar advertisements often, " said Jane, studyingthe clippings, "but I never thought of connecting them with the Hoffs. Iwonder--" Fleck and Carter had their heads together and were talking inlow tones. 

"I wonder, " said the chief, "what young Hoff is up to. He must haveknown the girl was there to spy on him. I can't understand his notquizzing her. "

"He's a cagey bird, " Carter replied. "They are both of them expert atthrowing off shadowers. Both of them know, I think, they arebeing watched. "

"Oh, listen, " interrupted Jane, all excitement. "I believe I can readthis cipher. The number of letters in the word in big type at thebeginning of the advertisement is the key. See, this word here is'remember'--that has eight letters. Read every eighth word in thisadvertisement. I've underlined them. "

Fleck took the paper quickly from her hand and he and Carter benteagerly over it to see if her theory was correct. 

 REMEMBER

 Please, that our new paste, Dento, will _stop_ decay of your teeth. Sound teeth are _passports_ to good health and comfort. No good _business_ man can risk ill health. It is _closely_ allied with failure. The teeth if not _watched_ are quickly gone. 

 USE DENTO

 A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the teeth, prepared and sold only by the Auer Dental Company, New York. 

"Stop passports business, closely watched, " repeated Fleck aloud. "Thatcertainly makes sense and fits the facts, too. In the last few days wehave drawn the net closely around a gang of supposed Scandinavians whohave been busy supplying passports to suspicious-looking travelers. Let's see the other advertisement. "

Excitedly the three of them read it together as Fleck underscored everyfourth word. 

 DON'T

 Forget it is _imperative_ for one and _all_ to use cleansing _agents_ on teeth that _leave_ no bad results. "_Ship_ more of that _wonder_-working paste immediately. _Workers_, employers, wives, all _ready_ to commend it. _Friday's_ supply gone, " writes a druggist, to whom a big shipment was made last week. 

 USE DENTO

 A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the teeth, prepared and sold only by the Auer Dental Company, New York. 

"Imperative all agents leave ship. Wonder-workers ready Friday, " readFleck. "That's surely a message, a warning to Germany's agents to getoff some ship or ships before they are destroyed. You, Miss Strong, haveheard old Otto talk about the wonder-workers, whatever they are, beingnearly ready. I guess he means bombs--bombs to blow up Americantransports. This message says they will be ready Friday. "

"And to-morrow's Friday, " said Jane. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE SEALED PACKET

"Is this Miss Strong?"

Jane, her face blanching, held the receiver in wavering hands for amoment before she could muster courage to answer. She had recognizedFrederic Hoff's voice speaking. What could he want with her now?

"It is Miss Strong, " she managed to answer. 

"This is Frederic Hoff. May I come in for a moment? It is mostimportant. "

Again Jane hesitated. Frederic was the last person in the world she feltlike seeing just at this moment. Only five minutes before she hadarrived home from Chief Fleck's office. She was under orders to holdherself in readiness to start immediately for the scene of yesterday'saccident. That this trip, unless their plans miscarried, wouldinevitably result in the exposure and disgrace of both the Hoffs shefelt morally certain. To face on friendly terms the man whose downfallshe was plotting, the man who only a few hours before had told her thathe loved her, seemed a task far beyond her endurance, a situation tootragic for her to cope with. 

Duty, her duty to her country, her honor, her patriotism, her affectionfor her soldier brother, all bade her mask her feelings and seek onemore opportunity of leading Hoff to betray himself in conversation ifthat were possible. Yet, to her own amazement and horror, her heartprotested vigorously against such action. Harassed as she was byconflicting emotions, worn out by the trying experiences that had beenhers the last few days, she realized at last that she was really in lovewith Hoff. The throb of joy that she had experienced at the sound of hisvoice, the thrill that came to her each time she saw him, the delightshe found in his presence, the fact that despite all the circumstances, she wanted to be near him, to be with him, convinced her against herwill and judgment that her heart was his. In vain she marshalled thedamning facts against him. She tried to remember only the expression ofmurderous hate she had seen on his face the night that her predecessor, the other K-19, had been murdered. She tried to think of him only as atreacherous spy, an enemy of her country forever plotting to destroyAmericans, yet she could not. However base and treacherous and low herreason told her Frederic Hoff must be, her refractory heart persisted inbeating faster at the prospect of his coming. 

Hitherto not much given to self-analysis, she now found herselfwondering at herself. What could be the matter with her? Why must shelove this rascal? Why could she not fall in love with some decent, clean, patriotic young American, with some man like Thomas Dean?Chauffeur though he was now pretending to be, she knew that he was acollege man, well-bred, and traveled. She knew, too, that Dean was inlove with her. For him she had a sincere liking, great admiration even, and toward him now she was experiencing that feeling of sympathy a womanalways has for the man she cannot love. But her feeling toward Dean, sheclassified as only that of friendship, nothing at all like thepassionate affection that was rapidly drawing her closer and closerto Hoff. 

Dared she see him now? Might not her love for him overcome her highdesire to be of service to her country? Might she not be led by herunruly heart into betraying to him the fact that he was in the mostimminent peril?

Yet she must see him, she told herself. Perhaps this very day he mightbe arrested and imprisoned. She might never again have the opportunityof seeing him alone and of talking with him. Into her troubled braincame a daring thought. Perhaps it was not too late, even yet, to turnhim from his evil course. Was there, she wishfully wondered, anypossibility of her leading him, through his love for her, to forsake hiscomrades, even to betray them? No, she admitted to herself, that was apreposterous idea. He was too dominating, too forceful, too determined, to be influenced to anything against his will. 

"May I come in, please?" he kept insisting over the 'phone. 

"Only for a minute, " she answered tremulously. "I'm going out soon. Ihave an engagement. "

"I'll come right over. I will not keep you long. "

As she awaited his arrival, subconsciously desirous of looking her bestin his presence, she stopped almost mechanically before her mirror toadjust her hair, letting him wait for her for a few minutes. 

He sprang forward to meet her as she entered the room where he was, hisface beaming with delight at the sight of her. 

"Jane, " he cried, with a volume of meaning in the monosyllable, asseizing her hand, he held it tightly and gazed earnestly into her face. 

Bravely she tried to meet his gaze, to read in his face if she could theobject of his unexpected visit, but her eyes fell before his, and thehot blood surged into her cheeks. Within her raged a desperate battlebetween her head and heart. Mingled with her unwelcome quickening of thepulse at his approach and admiration for his audacity in coming to herwhen he must know that she knew what he was, there was also anoverwhelming sense of futile rage that he, a scheming German plotter, dared intrude his presence into an American home. 

"I'm glad to see you appear no worse for your accident, " he said, releasing her hand at last. "You got home all right, without attractingany one's notice?"

"Oh, yes, " she answered, trying to make her reply seem whollyindifferent and disinterested. 

"Your chauffeur is all right, too, " he went on. "I telephoned thismorning. He had already left the doctor's. There's nothing more thematter with him than a broken arm and a scalp wound. That's fortunate, isn't it?"

"Very fortunate, " she admitted. 

All at once as they stood there there seemed to have arisen between theman invisible, impenetrable barrier. They faced each other wordlessly, each embarrassed by the knowledge of the secret gulf that was betweenthem. Hoff was the first to recover from it. 

"Come, " he said, "sit down. There is something I wish to say toyou, --something of the utmost importance, Jane. "

Still struggling with her emotions, Jane allowed him to place a chairfor her and seated herself, striving all the while to crush back intoher heart the warmth of feeling toward him that always overwhelmed herin his presence, endeavoring to present to him a mask of coldindifference. Yet her curiosity, as well as her affections, had beengreatly stirred by his remark. What was it that he was about to say toher? Did he intend, in spite of the insurmountable obstacles betweenthem, dared he, ask her to marry him? Tremblingly she waited for what hehad to say. 

"Jane, " he said, "you know that I love you. I am confident, too, thatyou love me. "

"I don't love you, " she forced her unwilling lips to say. "I can't. Whenour country is at war, when she needs men, brave men, how could any trueAmerican girl love any man who stayed at home, who idled about thehotels, who--"

"Girl, " his voice grew suddenly stern and commanding, softening a littleas he repeated her name, "Jane, dear, let me finish. I love you. Thereare grave reasons--all-important reasons--why I may not now ask you tobe my wife. "

"I never could be your wife, " she cried desperately, "the wife of a--"

The word died in her throat. She could not bring herself to tell him, the man she loved, the thing she knew he was. 

"My Jane, " he said, wholly unheeding her impassioned protest, "you knowlittle yet of what life means in this great world of ours. You, here inyour parents' home, sheltered, protected, inexperienced, have not theknowledge nor the means of judging me. You must take me on faith, on thefaith of your love for me. For a woman, life holds but two greattreasures, two loves--her husband's and her children's. With a man it isdifferent. Love is his, too, but there is something more, somethingbigger--duty. Here in your country--"

Even in her distress she caught his phrase "here in _your_ country" andturned ghastly white. Always before in talking with her he had spoken ofhimself as an American. Did he realize, she wondered, that he had atlast betrayed himself to her? Was he about to strip the mask fromhimself and his activities at last, and in the face of it all expecther, Jane Strong, to admit that she loved him?

"Here in your country, " he went on placidly, "women forced by economicconditions have been driven from home into business, into politics, intooffice-holding, even into war activities. Longing for the clinging armsof little children they are striving to forget in assuming some part inthe affairs that belong properly to men. But to the true woman love mustever mean more than duty, more than country. Those are words for men. Awoman, if she would find happiness, must follow her heart, must forsakeall for the man she loves. A woman's duty is only to the man she loves, just as a man's duty is to be true to himself, to his country. "

"But, " she cried, "you told me you were American, that you were bornhere?"

"Jane, " he persisted, with an impatient gesture, "we will not discussthat now. I love you. You must trust me in spite of everything. I knowyou will. You must. I can answer no questions. I can make noexplanations. I can only say I love you. That must suffice. "

"No, no, " she protested, almost sobbing. 

"I came here to-day, " he went on calmly, "to ask a favor of you. "

"A favor, " she cried. 

Calming herself she forced herself to look into his face. There wassomething so monstrously unbelievable about his audacity that she couldhardly believe her ears. What sort of a credulous stupid creature washe, she angrily asked herself, that in one breath he could all butconfess to her that he was a spy and in the next beseech her to do him afavor. Yet there came to her now a remembrance of her duty to hercountry. She felt that she must mask her feelings toward him, that ifshe was to be of service she must endeavor bravely to lead him on. Shemust try to induce him to confide in her. Hard as her task might be, what was it compared to the work her brother and those other braveAmerican boys had undertaken facing the fire of death-dealing guns, facing the terrible gas attacks, living for days and weeks in thoseterrible trenches? Reinforced by a sense of duty, she made a pitiableeffort at cordiality as she asked:

"What is it you wish of me?"

From one of his pockets he had brought forth a small packet which heheld out to her. In spite of her agitation she forced herself to studyit observingly, making note that it was tied with strong cord and sealedin several places with red wax. Curiously, too, she noted that on it waswritten her own name. 

"Jane, " said Hoff, "to-night I am going away. I may be absent for only aday or two if all goes well, but it is possible I may never comeback, --may never be able to see you again. "

She caught her breath sharply. There was the solemnity of finality inhis tones. Where was he going? What might happen to him? She realizedthat the journey he was about to make was in connection with the plotthat she and Chief Fleck were seeking to uncover. Evidently heanticipated peril in what he was about to undertake. Suppose he shouldbe trapped in the commission of some act inimical to America's welfare?What would happen to him? He would be arrested, of course. More thanlikely he would be sent to prison. He might even be shot as a spy. Whatif she were the one responsible for his meeting a disgraceful death?How could she go on with it? She must warn him. She must try to persuadehim to give up his plans. She tried hard to steady herself, to thinkcalmly. She must listen to every word he was saying and try toremember it. 

"This little packet is for you, " he went on. "I want you to keep itsafely. In case anything happens, in the event that within one month Ihave not returned and you have heard nothing of me, I wish you to openit and keep what it contains. Promise me that you will do what I ask. "

In a panic of indecision she got up from her chair, trying to frame ascore of questions, but none of them succeeded in passing the barrier ofher trembling lips. 

"Promise me, " he said softly yet impellingly, as he placed the littlepacket in her hand and closed her fingers over it. 

"I promise, " she whispered, hardly knowing what she said. 

Quickly he caught her in his powerful arms. For just a second he heldher there, his face close to hers, his blue eyes burning into hers witha steady inscrutable gaze as if he was trying to read in them the loveher lips had refused to speak. 

Then, so quickly that it was all over before she quite realized what hadhappened, he had kissed her passionately full on the lips and was gone. 

Overcome with the lassitude which follows emotional crises, trembling inevery limb, weak as from a long illness, the girl sank back into achair, still clutching in her hand the sealed packet Hoff had entrustedto her. Minute after minute she sat there with staring eyes, with heartbeating madly, with her whole body racked with the torment ofher thoughts. 

Slowly she lifted the packet and turned it over and over, wondering whatit could possibly contain, questioning herself as to what could havebeen Frederic Hoff's motive in entrusting it to her. Was there, shewondered, under those seals, some evidence of his guilt and treacherythat he had not dared to leave behind him? He must have known that shesuspected him and was seeking to entrap him. Had he, knowing all this, but sensing the love for him that he had kindled in her, taken advantageof it and extorted from her her promise to keep it safe?

Wherein lay her duty now? More than ever she was certain that FredericHoff was on some hazardous mission for the enemy. He had all butadmitted his nationality to her. Her own country's welfare demanded thatthe Hoffs' plans should be discovered and thwarted. Should she, orshould she not open the package? Possibly it contained some secret code, some clue to the dastardly activities in which he and his unclewere engaged. 

But her heart rebelled. She recalled what he had said, that she musttake him on trust. The memory of his burning kiss, of that last earnestlook he had given her, refused to be forgotten. Whatever he was, howeverbase the work in which he was engaged, she knew down deep in her heartthat Frederic Hoff had been earnestly sincere when he had said that heloved her. 

As she debated with herself what she ought to do, the telephone rangagain. It was Chief Fleck. 

"Can you meet me at the 110th Street subway station in half an hour?" heasked. "I'll be waiting in my car. Arrange it, if you can withoutarousing your family's suspicion, to be away all night. "

"I will be there, " she answered. 

As she turned away from the telephone with sudden resolve she thrust thesealed packet, still unopened, into the bosom of her gown. 

"I promised him, " she said almost fiercely. "I'll keep my promise. Thatmuch at least I owe our love. "

CHAPTER XIV

THE MOUNTAIN'S SECRET

In a turmoil of mental anxiety Jane waited the arrival of Chief Fleck atthe place he had designated. She was still badly wrought up by the scenethrough which she had just passed with Frederic. There were moments whenher heart insisted that, regardless of the despicable crimes that werelaid at his door, she should forsake everything for him, for the man sheloved. Had there been in her mind the slightest possible doubt as to hisguilt she might indeed have wavered, but the evidence of his treacheryseemed too manifest! She loathed herself for caring for him and felt ither sacred duty to go on with her work of aiding the government intrying to entrap both of them; yet how could she ever do it?

As she waited she debated with herself whether or not to tell ChiefFleck what had passed between herself and Frederic. After all, whyshould she? That was her own secret, not the country's. If she stifledher love, and gave her best efforts to aiding the other operatives inrunning down the conspirators, what more could be expected of her?Certainly she was not going to tell any one of the sealed packetFrederic had entrusted to her. She had promised him she would keep itsafe. Surely there could be no harm in that, yet the little parcel, still in the bosom of her gown where she had thrust it, seemed to beburning her flesh and searing itself into her very soul. 

In strong contrast with her own spirit of martyrdom was Fleck's manner. Never before had she seen him in such high spirits as he was when hedrew up before the subway station in a low car built for speed. On theseat beside the chauffeur was a young man whom she recognized as anotherof the operatives. As Fleck swung the door of the tonneau open for hershe noticed lying on the floor under a rug several rifles and drew backquestioningly. 

"Come on, Miss Strong, " he cried gaily. "Don't be afraid of them. Wemay be glad we have them before we return from our hunting expedition. "

"But, " she asked hesitatingly as she took her seat beside him, "youdon't expect to shoot these men--without a trial. "

Her heart seemed torn in anguish as she sensed anew the peril that layahead for Frederic. Misgivings that she might be unable to fulfil hertask seized her, and she was smitten with reproach for her own conducttoward him. Why, an hour ago, when there was still opportunity, had shenot warned Frederic? If he were really sincere in the affection heprofessed for her maybe she might have persuaded him, if not to betrayhis comrades, at least to abandon them and escape from the country. Yeteven now her reason told her that any plea she might have made wouldhave been worse than futile. Above and beyond his love for her sheunderstood that he held sacred what he conceived to be his duty, hismisguided duty to his erring country. It was too late now for regrets, for repentance, too late for her to do anything but to try to serve hercountry, cost her what it might, yet anxiously she awaited ChiefFleck's reply to her question. 

"Wouldn't I shoot them all on sight, gladly, the damned spies, " heresponded. "That's the great trouble with this country, Miss Strong. We're too soft-hearted and chivalrous. The Germans realize that war andsentiment have no place together. If killing babies and destroyingchurches will in their opinion help them win the war they do it withoutcompunction. The civilized world decided that poison gas was too brutaland dastardly for use, even against an enemy, but that didn't stop theHuns from using it. They put duty to Germany above all else, and iftheir country expects it are ready to rob, murder, use bombs, betrayfriends, do anything and everything, comforted by the knowledge thateven if we do catch them at it here in this country all we will do tothem will be put them in jail for a year or two. If I had my way I'dshoot them all on sight. "

"Without any evidence--without trying them?" questioned Jane. 

"Without trial, yes--without evidence, no; but in the case of theseHoffs we have evidence enough to stand them both up and shoot them. "

"Have you learned more?" she asked quickly. "Is Frederic, too, involvedwith his uncle?"

He shot an appraising glance at her. He had been inclined to regardDean's suspicion that she was in love with the younger Hoff as the merefigment of jealousy, but where two young persons of the opposite sex arethrown together, there is always the possibility of romance. Janecolored a little under his searching glance, yet what he read in herface seemed to satisfy his doubts, and he made up his mind to take herfully into his confidence. 

"Thanks to your quick wit in reading those advertisements, " he said, "wehave now a fairly complete index of the Hoffs' activities in the lastsix months. I have been spending the last two hours in going over allthe Dento advertisements that have appeared. For weeks they have beensending out a regular series of bulletins. "

"Bulletins about what?" asked Jane. 

"About everything of interest to the secret enemies of our country:explanations of where and how to get false passports, detailedstatements of the sailings of our transports, directions for obtainingmaterials for making bombs, instructions for blowing up munition plants, suggestions for smuggling rubber, orders for fomenting strikes. Theyeven had the nerve to use the name of William Foxley, signed to atestimonial for Dento. "

"Who is William Foxley?" asked Jane curiously. 

"In the Wilhelmstrasse code that was in use when Von Bernstorff wasstill in this country; in sending their wireless messages they madefrequent use of proper names which had a code meaning. Boy-ed was'Richard Houston, ' Von Papen was 'Thomas Hoggson' and Bolo Pascha wasalways mentioned as 'St. Regis, ' In this same code 'William Foxley'always meant the German Foreign Office. "

"But surely you did not learn this from the advertisements?"

"Not at all. Hugo Schmidt, who was reputed to be the paymaster of thegang, was caught trying to burn a copy of this code at the German Club. With the records of their wireless messages our government managed toreconstruct the whole code. The use of a word or two from this code inthese advertisements is most significant. It shows that whoever preparedthese advertisements was high in the confidence of the Germangovernment. Only the very topnotch spies are likely to be permitted toknow the diplomatic code. "

"And you think, then, that Otto Hoff may be the head of the conspiratorsin this country?" said Jane. 

"Not Otto--Frederic, " said Fleck quickly. "The young man, I am certain, was the director, probably sent out from Berlin after the country becametoo hot for Von Papen and Boy-ed. The old man, I believe, merely carriedout his orders. I doubt even if they are uncle and nephew. "

"I think you are wrong about that, " protested Jane. "Whenever I waslistening over the dictograph it was always the old man who was sobitter against America. It was he who talked about the wonder-workersand the necessity for haste. I never heard Frederic sayanything--anything disloyal, that is. "

"The fact that he knew enough to keep his mouth closed shows that he isthe more intelligent of the two. Don't forget, too, that at times heeven dared to don the uniform of a British officer. You saw himyourself. Undoubtedly he is the more dangerous of the pair. "

"But who read these advertisements?" asked Jane, seeking to change thesubject. "For whom were the bulletins intended?"

"It was one of their ways of keeping in communication with theirthousands of secret agents all over this country. I wouldn't besurprised if occasionally these advertisements were printed in Texaspapers and shipped over the border into Mexico. We have been watchingthe mails and the telephone and telegraph lines for months, yet all thewhile Mexico has been sending messages across, telling the U-boatseverything they needed to know. We never thought of checking up theadvertising in papers in the Mexican mail. "

"But what about the messages old Mr. Hoff left in the bookstores? Wasthat part of the plan, too?"

"It may have been simply a duplicate method of communication in casethe other failed. The Germans here know that they are constantly watchedand take every precaution. We'll land that girl as soon as we have theHoffs safe behind the bars, and then we'll soon see if Carter'sdachshund theory was right. "

"But who, " asked Jane, "is the spy in our navy? Who signalled the Hoffs'apartment and supplied them with the news about our transports? Was itLieutenant Kramer?"

"Probably, " said Chief Fleck carelessly, "that is not my end of thework. It is up to the Naval Intelligence Bureau to clean out the spiesin the navy. I'm after the boss-spy. After we land him it will be easierto get the small fry. A defiant German prisoner once boasted to me thatGermany had a man on every American ship, in every American regiment, and in every department in Washington. I suspect it comes pretty nearbeing true. A country that has so many citizens with German names andsuch an enormous population of German descent has its hands full. "

As they talked the chief's car had crossed the ferry, and turning norththrough Englewood, was heading rapidly in the direction of West Point. 

"Where are we going now?" Jane ventured to ask. "To the place where Iwas yesterday--where we had the accident?"

"Not directly, " the chief replied. "I sent Carter and some men up thereahead of us to do some reconnoitering. I'll get in touch with Carter atthe restaurant at the State Park. He was to call me up. We are nearlythere now. "

As the car swung into the park and stopped before the entrance of thetwo-story restaurant building, Fleck sprang hastily out and started forthe telephone but stopped abruptly at the sight of a young man withbandaged head and with one arm in a sling who rose from the concretesteps of the building to greet him. 

"Why, Dean, " he exclaimed in amazement, "what are you doing here? Howdid you get here?"

"You don't think I was going to be left out at the finish, " laughed thechauffeur. 

"But your injuries, your arm--"

"Both all right, as right as they'll be for several weeks. "

"But how did you know we were coming here? How did you manage to gethere?"

"Carter stopped on his way out to make sure about the road. I wanted tocome with him, but there was no room in his car. He refused to bring me, anyhow. I managed to worm out of him what your plans were, and thedoctor's jitney did the rest. "

"Well, " growled the chief, with simulated indignation, though secretlydelighted with Dean's show of spirit, "I suppose there's nothing else todo but to take you along. Climb in there beside Miss Strong. "

As Dean approached the car Jane rose in amazement. 

"Oh, Thomas, Mr. Dean, " she cried, "I'm so glad to see you. I was afraidyesterday that you had been badly hurt. "

"It was a close shave for both of us, " he admitted, flushing withdelight at the warmth of her greeting, "but what are you doing here? TheChief had no business to bring you on a trip like this. "

All his affection for the girl had revived at this unexpected sight ofher, and with a lover's righteous anxiety he resented Fleck's havingexposed her to the probable perils of this expedition to the enemy'ssecret lair. 

"They needed me, " she said simply, "to show them the way. "

"That need exists no longer, " he protested, "since I am here. The Chiefmust send you back. "

"Don't be absurd, " she objected warmly. 

"But it is no place for a woman, " he insisted doggedly, kickingmeaningly at the rifles on the floor of the car. "There may be a fight. These men are desperate and dangerous and more than likely will resistany attempt to arrest them. "

"I want to be there to see it if they do, " said Jane calmly. 

"Please, won't you, for my sake, " he begged, "go back home or at leastwait here for us?"

"I won't, " said the girl doggedly. 

"I'll ask the Chief to send you back. "

"Don't you dare, " she retorted hotly, resenting his air of protectiontoward her. 

She was glad for the presence of the two other men in the car. Shesensed that it was only their being there that kept Dean from making ascene. There was nothing in his manner toward her now of the obsequiouschauffeur. While she admitted to herself that there was no longer thenecessity for his continuing in his fictitious character she stronglyresented his loverlike jealousy for her welfare and welcomed the chief'sreturn, for she saw from his face, as he came running up to the car, that he had received some sort of news that had highly delighted him. 

Almost before he was in the car he had given orders to start, leaving noopportunity for Dean to make his threatened protest againstJane's presence. 

"I got Carter on the 'phone, " Fleck explained hurriedly as they swungout of the park and turned northward. "He has succeeded in locating theplace the Hoffs go every week. It is about three miles back off theroad, over toward the river from the place where you two had thataccident yesterday. Away off there in the woods in a deserted localityis a sort of club, the members of which are Austrians or Germans. Theyhave given it out that they are health enthusiasts and mountainclimbers, 'Friends of the Air, ' they call themselves. "

"Who are they really? What are they doing there?" asked Janeinterestedly. 

"Carter has not had time yet to learn much about them. The place wassome sort of a health resort or sanitarium that failed several yearsago. Last summer it seems to have been taken over by this bunch ofGermans. At times there are only two or three of them there, butrecently the number has increased. Carter thinks there must be a dozenmen there now. "

"How did he locate the place?" asked Dean. 

"Carter is a real detective, " said the chief enthusiastically. "Hereasoned it out that where there were Germans there must be beer. Hescouted along the main road until he found a wayside saloon where, as hehad shrewdly suspected, they got their liquid supplies. From theproprietor of the place and the hangers-on he had no trouble in gettingthe information he wanted without arousing their suspicions. "

"Where is Mr. Carter now?" asked Jane. 

"He's waiting for us a few miles up the road. "

"He has only four men with him, hasn't he?" questioned Dean. 

"That's all. "

"And there are four of us here. "

"Three and a half, " said the chief, motioning to Dean's bandaged arm. 

"It's my left arm, " he retorted. "I can handle a revolver, at least, with my good arm. "

"And I can shoot, too, " boasted Jane; "that makes nine of us. "

"Nine of us against twelve of the enemy, " said the chief thoughtfully. "It looks like a busy evening. "

"And don't forget, " warned Jane, "that the Hoffs are coming up thisevening. At least young Mr. Hoff told me this morning that he was goingaway this evening. That makes two more on the other side. "

"And one of them, " muttered Fleck, "a mighty dangerous man. "

CHAPTER XV

THE HOUSE IN THE WOODS

At last they had reached their goal, the place which the two spysuspects undoubtedly had been in the habit of visiting regularly everyweek for months past. 

Sheltered by a great rock and the underbrush about it, Jane, with Fleckand Thomas Dean, peered eagerly out at a dingy, weather-beaten framestructure which neighborhood gossip had told them was the shelteringplace of the "Friends of the Air. " In its outward appearance at least, Jane decided, it was disappointingly unmysterious. It looked to hermerely like a cheap summer boarding-house that had gone long untenanted. There was a two-story main building, cheaply constructed and almostwithout ornament, sadly crying for new paint, and the usual outbuildingsfound about such places in the more remote country districts. 

Still from Chief Fleck's manner she was certain that he regarded theirachievement in locating the place as of the highest importance. They hadrun their two automobiles noiselessly up the lane leading from the mainroad until they were perhaps half a mile distant from the house and thenhad concealed them in the woods near-by, being careful to obliterate alltraces of the wheel tracks where they had left the lane. Making a détouramong the trees they had reached their present position not more thanthree hundred yards away from the buildings. They had carried the rifleswith them, and these now were close at hand, hidden under the log onwhich the three of them were sitting. Carter, with the other men, underFleck's orders, had divided themselves into scouting parties and hadcrept away through the woods to study their surroundings at still closerrange while the waning afternoon light permitted. 

At first glance one might have been inclined to believe the buildingsuntenanted. There seemed to be no one stirring about the place, and someof the unshuttered windows on the second floor were broken. The onlyindications of recent occupation were a pile of kegs at the rear of thehouse and near-by a heap of freshly opened tin cans. Near one of thelarger outbuildings, too, was a pile of chips and sawdust. 

"There does not seem to be any one about, " whispered Jane. "What do yousuppose they do here?"

"I can't imagine yet, " said Fleck with an impatient shake of his head. "The fact that this house is important enough for the Hoffs to visitonce a week makes it important for us to cautiously and carefullyinvestigate everything about it. It may be a secret wireless plant awayoff here in the woods where no one would think of looking for it. Itmight be a bomb factory where their chemists manufacture the bombs andexplosives with which they are constantly trying to wreck our munitionplants and communication lines. Perhaps it is just a rendezvous wheretheir various agents, the important ones engaged in their damnable workof destruction, come secretly to get their orders from the Hoffs and toreceive payment for their hellishness accomplished. "

"It's all so funny, so perfectly absurd, " said Jane with a nervouslittle laugh. 

"Absurd, " cried Fleck indignantly, "what do you mean? It's frightfullyserious. "

"Of course, I understand, " Jane hastened to say. "I was just thinking, though, how funny we are here in America, especially in the big cities. We know nothing whatever about our neighbors, about the people rightnext door to us. In one apartment we'll be doing all we can to help winthe war, and in the apartment next door the people will be plotting andscheming to help Germany win, and it is only by accident we find outabout it. Take my own father and mother. They haven't the slightestsuspicion of the people next door. They would hardly believe me if Itold them the Hoffs were German spies. They see them every day in theelevator. Young Mr. Hoff has been in our apartment several times. Mymother has met him and talked with him. I was just thinking how amazedand horrified she will be when she hears about it and learns what I havebeen doing. "

"You are perfectly right, " said Fleck soberly. "We are entirely toocareless here in America about our acquaintances and neighbors. We knowthat we are decent and respectable, and we're apt to take it forgranted that everybody else is. We don't mind our neighbors' businessenough. Nobody in a New York apartment house ever bothers to know whohis neighbors are or what their business is, so long as they present arespectable appearance. I know New York people who live on the samefloor with two ex-convicts and have lived there for three years withoutsuspecting it. We should have here in America some system ofregistration as they have in Germany. Tenants and travelers ought to berequired to file reports with the police, giving their occupation andother details. If that plan were in use here enemy spies would lack mostof the opportunities we have been giving them. "

"Yes, " said Dean, "you are right. I've lived in Germany. Over there acrook of any sort can hardly move without the police knowing it. Theirsystem certainly has its good points. "

"It surely has, " Fleck agreed. "If the Prussians' character were onlyequal to their intelligence they would be the most wonderful people inthe world, but they are rotten clear through. They have no conceptionof honor as we understand it. Only the other day I read of a Prussianofficer who led his men in an attack on a chateau, guiding them by plansof the place he had made himself while being entertained in the chateauas a guest before the war. "

"Don't you think any of them have a sense of honor?" asked Jane in atroubled tone. 

Her mind had reverted, as she found it frequently doing, to FredericHoff and the sealed packet he had entrusted to her. He had professed tolove her and had demanded that she trust him. Was it, she wondered, alla base pretense on his part? Was he--for Germany's sake--takingadvantage of her affection for him to make her the unwitting custodianof some secret too perilous for him to carry about with him? Perhapsthat little parcel she was carrying in the bosom of her gown containedthe code he and his uncle used? Had it not been for Dean's presence shemight have been tempted to take Fleck into her confidence and tell himof the peculiar incident, though in spite of all she knew about him shefelt that Frederic Hoff's feeling for her was real, and that toward herhe always would show only respect and honor, as he always had donehitherto; and yet--

Before the chief had time to answer her question Dean with a whispered"hist" pointed to a path in the rear of the buildings they werewatching. Behind the house two rugged hills, their sides of precipitousrock so steep that they hardly afforded a foothold, came down closetogether, making a V-shaped cleft through which a narrow path ran in thedirection of the river. Looking toward this cleft to which Dean waspointing they now saw a group of workmen approaching the house. 

All of them were in the garb of mechanics, yet as they approached insingle file down the path, the quick eye of the chief noted that theywere keeping step. 

"They've all of them seen service, " he muttered to himself, "either inprison or in the German army. "

Some of them carried kits of tools, and they walked with the air offatigue that results from a day of hard physical work. They seemed tohave no suspicion as yet that they were under observation, for as theywalked they chatted among themselves, the sound of their Germangutturals reaching the watchers, but unfortunately not distinctly enoughto be audible. Dean was busy counting them. 

"There are fourteen, " he announced, "two more than we were expecting tofind here. "

"At what do you suppose they are working?" asked Jane curiously. 

"Here comes Carter, " replied Fleck. "Perhaps he can tell us. His faceshows that he has learned something. "

Carter, crawling rapidly but silently through the underbrush, approachedbreathlessly, his sweaty, begrimed countenance ablaze with excitement. 

"What's up?" asked Fleck, as soon as he was within hearing. 

"My God, Chief, " he gasped, "they've got three big aeroplanes out thereon a plateau overlooking the river--three of them all keyed up and readyto start. "

"Friends of the Air, " muttered Fleck; "so that's what it means. "

"They've evidently smuggled all the material up and built the threeplanes right here, " Carter went on. "I watched them putting on thefinishing touches and testing the guy-wires. There is a machine shop, too, rigged up in one of those outbuildings. The thing that gets me ishow they got the engines here. All the planes are equipped with powerfulnew engines. "

"If there are traitors in the army and navy, why not in the aeroplanefactories, too?" suggested Fleck. "A spy in the shipping departmentcould easily change the label on even a Liberty motor intended for oneof Uncle Sam's flying fields. Even when it didn't turn up where and whenit was expected, it would take government red tape three months to findout what had become of the missing motors. "

"These machines"--said Jane suddenly, "they must be the 'wonder-workers'old Mr. Hoff was always talking about. "

"And that last advertisement we read, " Dean reminded them, "announcedthat the wonder-workers would be ready Friday. It looks as if we gothere not a minute too soon. "

"You bet we didn't, " said Carter. "Every one of those three planes isfairly loaded down with big bombs, scores of them. "

"To bomb New York, " said Fleck soberly; "that's their plan. Zeppelinsfor England, big guns to shell Paris, bombs from the air for New York. It's part of their campaign to spread frightfulness, to terrorize theworld. Undoubtedly that is the reason Berlin sent Frederic Hoff overhere, to superintend the destruction of the metropolis. There have beenwhispers for months and months that the city some day was to be bombed, but we never were able to discover their origin. "

"And not a single anti-aircraft gun or anything in the whole city tostop them, is there?" cried Jane. "Wouldn't it be terrible?"

Fleck smiled grimly. 

"Any foolhardy German who tries to bomb New York from the air has a bigsurprise coming to him--a lot of big surprises. The war department maynot have been doing much advertising, but it has not been idle. "

"Then we have some anti-aircraft guns!" cried Jane delightedly. "I neverheard anything about them. "

"That would be telling government secrets, " said Fleck, smilingmysteriously, "but I'd just like to see them try it. I have sort of anotion to let them start their bombing. "

"Oh, no, we mustn't, " Jane insisted. "We mustn't let those aeroplanesever start. Can't we do something right away to cripple them?"

"There's plenty of time, " the chief assured her. "It is best for us towait until after dark. The early morning would be ideal time for anaerial attack on the city, when everybody is helpless and asleep. There's generally a fog over the river and harbor, too, before sunriseat this season of the year, and that might help them to mask theirmovements. It would take an aeroplane less than an hour to reach thecity from here, so that there is no likelihood of their starting untillong after midnight. That gives us plenty of time, and besides we mustwait until the Hoffs arrive. "

"That will make two more--sixteen of them against our nine, " warnedDean. 

"We cannot help it how many of them there are, " said Fleck. "It is ofvital importance for us to know just what their plans are. It isunlikely that they will post guards to-night in this secluded spot, where they have been at work in safety for months. As soon as it isdark we can smash the aeroplanes. "

"That will be easy, " said Carter. "I know something about aeroplanes. Cut a couple of wires, and they are out of business. Sills, one of mymen, is posted on bombs, and he'll know just how to fix the fuses torender them useless. "

"What's more, " said Fleck, "if I understand German thoroughness, theywill go over their final plans in detail to make sure that everything isunderstood. The darkness will let us slip up closer to the house, and wemay be able to overhear what they say. Don't forget, too, that our mainjob is to catch the Hoffs red-handed. "

"That's right, " said Dean. "They are the brains of the plot. These otherfellows are just workmen taking orders. "

"I'm puzzled, " said Fleck, "to know what they plan to do with theaeroplanes after the bombing has taken place. There is not one chance ina thousand of their being able to return here in safety withoutdiscovery. It will be sure death for the aviators that take up thosemachines. "

"Sure death!"

With a shudder Jane recalled what Frederic had said to her only a fewhours ago as they parted--that he was going away and might never return. Was this what he had meant? Was he, Frederic, to be one of the foolhardythree who proposed to forfeit their lives in this desperate attempt todeal destruction from the air on a sleeping city, to wreck innocenthomes, to cripple and maim and destroy helpless babies and women? Shecould not, would not believe it of him. That he had the courage anddaring to undertake such a perilous task she did not doubt. Sherealized, too, that the controlling motive of all his actions was hishigh sense of duty toward his country, and yet in spite of all that shehad learned about the plots in which she was enmeshed, her heart refusedto believe that he ever could bring himself to participate in suchwanton frightfulness. She recalled the spirit of mercy that he had showntoward herself and Thomas Dean after the accident as contrasted with thebrutal indifference of his uncle. She kept hoping against hope thatsomething might happen to prevent his arriving here. Devoutly she wishedthat she might awake and find that it was all a terrible mistake, ahideous unreality, and that the "Friends of the Air" were not in any wayassociated with the Hoffs. 

Yet her reason told her it must all be true, terribly, infamously true, and that he was one of them, perhaps the leader of them. 

One by one the members of the various scouting parties had come creepingin through the forest. All of them verified what Carter had alreadyreported. One man, more venturesome than the others, had even dared tocreep close up to the rear of the house and had seen through the windowthe workmen, gathered about their supper of beer and sausages, toastingthe Kaiser with the unanimity of a set formality. 

As the light waned, secured from observation by the undergrowth betweentheir position and the house, they sat there discussing plans of action, selecting while the light still permitted the most advantageous postsfrom which they could make a concerted rush on the plotters. Fleck wasinsistent that they should do nothing to betray their presence untilafter the Hoffs had arrived, and Dean once more voiced his protestagainst Jane taking part in the attack. "I will be of far more use thanyou with your crippled arm, " she resentfully insisted. "I can handle arevolver as well as any man, and a rifle, too, if necessary. "

"Dean is right, " Fleck decided. "It is no work for a woman. Here is anautomatic, Miss Strong. You will stay here until after we have roundedthem up. If we get the worst of it, which is not likely to happen, makeyour way to the automobile and telephone the commandant at West Point. "

Reluctantly Jane assented. She realized that further protest wasuseless. Fleck was in command, and his orders must be obeyedunquestioningly if their plans for the capture of the plotters were tobe successfully carried out. 

Presently they heard in the distance the sound of an automobileapproaching, and soon they could distinguish its lights as it negotiatedthe rough, winding woodland road that led to the house. A toot from thehorn as it arrived brought the men within the house tumbling out thefront door with huzzas of greeting for their leaders, and Fleck observedthat all the men as they came out automatically raised their handsin salute. 

"Ex-German soldiers, every one of them, " he muttered. 

As the Hoffs got out of the car a shaft of light from the opened frontdoor threw the figures of the new arrivals into sharp relief, and Janesaw, with a shudder of terror, that Frederic was dressed in an aviator'scostume. There was no longer any doubt left in her mind that he was oneof those going to certain death, and a dry sob choked her. 

The Hoffs passed within the house, and the door was closed. 

"Now, " cried Fleck, "to your stations, men. Each of you take a rifle. You stay here, Miss Strong. Come on, Carter. "

CHAPTER XVI

THE ATTACK ON THE HOUSE

In accordance with instructions already issued two of Fleck's men rushedfor the front of the house, where with rifles ready they stood guard, while the others took cover in the shadow of one of the outbuildings afew feet distant from the rear entrance. 

Apparently the plotters had been so long undisturbed in their mountainfastness that they had ceased to take even the most ordinary precautionsagainst surprise. So far as could be discovered they had posted noguards over the aeroplanes and their deadly cargo, nor at either of thetwo doors to the main building. Nevertheless Fleck, as he creptstealthily up to the building with Carter at his side, took out hisautomatic and held it in readiness, and Carter followed his example. 

There was no moon to reveal their movements as they approached the rearof the house. The evening was warm, and one of the windows had been leftopen. Noiselessly they crept up to it and looked within. It opened intoa large room used as a dining hall, where they could see all of the menclustered about one of the tables, at the head of which sat old OttoHoff with Frederic at his side. On the table before him was whatappeared to be a rough map or blueprint. Frederic and five of the othermen, Fleck observed, now wore aviation costumes. 

"Comrades, " old Otto was saying in German, "here is the course. You willhave no difficulty in following it. Down the river straight till you seethe lights of New York. You each understand what you are then todo, yes?"

"Certainly, " three of the men, the pilots evidently, responded. 

"Let us, to make sure, " old Otto insisted, "once more rehearse it. Muchthere is at stake for the Fatherland. You, Anton and Fritz, will blow upthe transports and the warships that guard them. Six great transportsare lying there, ready to sail at daylight The troops went aboardto-night. We waited until it was signalled that it was so. You must notfail. The biggest of those transports once belonged to Germany. You mustteach these boastful Americans their lesson. That one boat you mustdestroy for certain. Beside the transports to-night lie five vessels ofwar, two battleships, three cruisers. Them you must destroy also, ifthere is time. To each transport, two bombs, to each warship, twobombs--twenty you carry. If all goes well, two you will have left. Withthese do what you will, a house, a church, it matters not--anything tospread the terror of Germany in the hearts of these money-grabbingAmericans. "

"It will be done, " said Anton solemnly. 

"I have thrown bombs before. You can trust me, " said Fritz. 

"You, Hans and Albert, " old Otto went on, "will fly over the city atgood height. When you reach the end of the island you turn to the left, so, and come down close that your aim may not miss. Here will be theBrooklyn Navy Yard, "--he indicated a place on the map. "If there is fogthe bridges will locate it for you. Smash the ship lying there, theshops, the dry docks; if it is possible blow up the munitionsstored there. "

"I know the place well, " Hans replied. "I worked there many months. Ican find my way in the dark. It will be done. "

"And to you, Herr Captain, " said Otto, turning to Frederic and saluting, "to you, whom the War Office itself sent here to oversee thisall-wonderful plan of mine which it has seen fit to approve, to you andyour mate falls the greatest honor and glory. You--"

A suppressed sob at his side caused Fleck to turn quickly and lay hisfinger on the trigger of his revolver. There, close beside him, listening to all that had been said, was Jane. Left alone in thedarkness she had found it impossible to obey the chief's orders andremain where she was. Every little sound about her had carried newterrors to her heart. Hitherto she had not felt afraid, but the solitudefilled her mind with wild imaginings. She was seized, too, by anirresistible desire to know what part Frederic was playing in this dramaof the dark. Was his life in peril? Were Fleck and Carter now gatheringevidence that would bring about his conviction, perhaps his shamefuldeath? She must know what was happening. Quietly she had stolen up topeer through the window. 

Fleck, as he recognized her, with an angry gesture of warning to besilent, turned back to hear what Otto was saying. 

"--you, Frederic, have the glory of leading the expedition, of bombingthat damned Wall Street which alone has kept Germany from winning herwell-deserved victory. You will destroy their foolish skyscrapers, theirbanks, their business buildings. Your work will end this way. You willstrike terror into the cowardly hearts of these American bankers whosegreed for money has led them to interfere with our great nation'srightful ambition. You shall show them that their ocean is noprotection, that the iron hand of our Kaiser is far-reaching. Do yourwork well, and they will be on their knees begging us for peace. "

"God helping me, " said Frederic, "I will not fail in my duty to mycountry. "

There was something magnificent in his manner as he spoke, somethingalmost regal, and Fleck regarded him with a puzzled air. Who was he, this man who had been sent out from Germany on this mission--this man towhom even old Otto paid deference? Despite the assurance with which hehad spoken Fleck had observed in Frederic an uneasiness, a watchfulness, that none of the others seemed to exhibit. He had the appearance ofalertly listening, listening, for what? Fleck's first thought was thathe might have overheard the little cry that Jane had inadvertentlygiven, but he quickly dismissed this theory. If Frederic had heard thatsound it would have alarmed him, and the look in his eyes now was one ofexpectancy rather than of fear. 

Jane, too, was puzzled and distressed. With trembling hands she clutchedat the sill of the window for support as she heard Frederic assent toold Otto's plans for him. Her estimate of his character made it seemincredible that he would willingly lend himself to this work ofwholesale murder, yet she could no longer doubt the evidence of her ownears. With overwhelming force it came to her that this man who soreadily agreed to such bloody, dastardly work as this, must undoubtedlybe also the murderer of that K-19 whose body had been found just aroundthe corner from her home. Bitterly she reproached herself that she hadallowed herself to care for him. Shamedly she confessed to herself thatshe still loved him--even now. 

"Your great work accomplished, " Otto continued, "remember your orders. Forty miles due east of Sandy Hook there will be lying two greatsubmarines, waiting to take you off--not U-boats, but two of ourpowerful, wonderful new X-boats, big enough to destroy any of theirlittle cruisers that are patrolling the coast, fast enough to escape anyof their torpedo boats. How important the war office judges your workyou may realize from this--it is the first mission on which these newX-boats have been dispatched. They are out there now. We have had awireless from them. They are waiting to convey six heroes back to theFatherland, where the highest honors will be bestowed on them at thehands of our Emperor himself. Herr Captain and Comrades--"

He stopped abruptly, and there came into his face a pained look ofsurprise, of terror. 

_"Was is dass?_" he cried in alarm. 

One of Fleck's men in hiding out there in the shadow of the buildinghad been seized by an irresistible desire to sneeze. 

The terrifying suspicion that there had been some uninvited spectatoroutside, listening to their plotting, swept over the whole room. Thewhole company, hearing the sound that had alarmed old Hoff, arose as oneman and stood tensed, stupefied with fear, gazing white-faced in thedirection from which the sound had come. 

Fleck, rudely brushing Jane aside, dropped back from the window and blewa sharp blast with a whistle. At the sound his men came running up withtheir rifles ready. 

Inside, the man called Hans, seizing an electric torch, dashed to thedoor, and pulling it wide, rushed forth, his torch lighting the waybefore him. Before he even had time to see the men gathering there andcry an alarm, a blow from the butt of Carter's revolver stretched himsenseless on the stoop. 

"In the name of the United States I command you to surrender, " criedFleck, springing boldly into the open doorway, revolver in hand; "thehouse is surrounded. "

Instantly all within the room was confusion. Some of those nearest thedoor, seeing behind Fleck the protruding muzzles of the guns, promptlythrew up their hands in token of surrender. Others bolted madly for thefront door, only to find their egress there blocked by the rifles in thehands of the guard that Fleck had had the foresight to station there. 

Old Otto, the pallor of fear on his face giving away to an expression ofdemoniac rage, drew a revolver and aimed it straight at Fleck. Jane, whounbidden had followed the raiders as they entered and now was standingwide-eyed in the doorway watching the spectacle, was the only one to seethat just as old Otto pulled the trigger his nephew, whether by accidentor design, she could not tell, jostled his arm, sending the bullet wideof its mark. 

"Come on, men, " cried Fleck, advancing boldly into the room. 

Eight of the Germans, piteously bleating "Kamerad" stood against thewall near the door, their hands stretched high above their heads. 

"Guard these men, Dean, " cried Fleck, as with Carter close at his sidehe dashed into the fray. 

One man already lay senseless outside, eight had surrendered. Four hadfled to the front of the house. That left only the two Hoffs and oneother man against five of them. It was Fleck's intention to try tooverpower the trio before the four who had fled returned to aid them. Jane, amazed at her own coolness, stood beside Dean, her revolver out, helping him guard the prisoners. 

Frederic all the while had been standing by his uncle's side, strangelyenough appearing to take little interest or part in the battle. OldOtto, though, despite his years, was fighting with vigor enough torequire both the work of Fleck and Carter to subdue him. Vainly hestruggled to wrench himself free from their grasp and use his revolveragain. Fleck's strength pulling loose his fingers from the weapon wastoo much for him. As he felt himself being disarmed, in a frenzy he torehimself loose from both of them and seizing a chair, swung it with allhis strength against the hanging lamp above the table that supplied theonly light in the room. 

In an instant the room was in darkness. The four from the front, rushingback to aid their comrades in answer to old Otto's cries, foundthemselves unable to distinguish friend from foe. Fleck's men dared notuse their weapons in the darkness. Back and forth through the room theopposing forces struggled, the air thick with cries and muttered oaths, the sound of blows making strange medley with the rapid shufflingof feet. 

Jane, remembering the electric torch that had been carried by the manCarter had struck down, felt her way to the door and retrieved it fromhis senseless fingers. Returning, she flashed it about the room, endeavoring to assist Fleck by its light. As she let the beam fall onFrederic she heard a muttered curse at her side and turned to see ThomasDean aiming his revolver directly at the younger Hoff. With a quickmovement she thrust up his arm, and the bullet buried itself in the wallabove his head. 

"What are you trying to do, " snapped Dean; "help that damned spy toescape?"

"He wasn't trying to escape, " she angrily retorted. "Look--quick--mindyour prisoners. "

He turned just in time to see the Germans behind him lowering theirarms. In another second they would have been on his back. At the sightof his brandished revolver, their arms were quickly raised again. 

Meanwhile Fleck's men, guided by Jane's light, were laying about themwith their rifles clubbed. The plotters were at a disadvantage in notrealizing how few there were in the attacking party. Fleck'sannouncement that the house was surrounded had both deceived anddisheartened them. When three of their number had been knocked senselessto the floor the others surrendered and joined the group that stoodwith hands up. 

To Fleck's amazement it was Frederic Hoff who led in the surrender. 

"Watch that young Hoff, " he whispered to Carter. "I can't understand hisgiving up so easily. It may be only a ruse on his part. "

"Perhaps he's afraid the girl will be hurt, " whispered Carter, but Fleckwas not there to hear him, having dashed forward to where old Otto wasstill fighting desperately. 

Somehow in the melee the old man had again got hold of a revolver, andjust as Fleck seized him he fired again. The bullet, aimed at Fleck, left him unharmed, but found a mark in Thomas Dean, who with a littlegurgling cry, fell forward at Jane's feet. Carter turned at once toguard the prisoners, as Fleck, with a cry of rage, felled old Hoff tothe floor, harmless for the present at least. 

Sending one of his men to the other rooms in search of lamps Fleck soonhad all the prisoners safely shackled, both hand and foot, none of themoffering any resistance. Investigation showed that old Hoff in fallinghad struck his head in such a way that his neck was broken, killing himinstantly. The three who had been clubbed were not seriously injured, and as soon as they revived were shackled as the others had been. 

Jane, seeing Dean collapse, had turned to aid him and for some time hadbeen bending over him, trying to revive him. He had opened his eyes, looked up into her face and had tried to say something, and then hadcollapsed, dying right before her eyes. 

"Take the Hoffs' car outside, " Fleck directed some of his men, "andbring up our two cars at once. Carter and I'll guard the prisoners untilyou get back. There's a county jail only a few miles away. The sooner weget them there the better it will be. It won't take any court long tosettle their fate. They got Dean, didn't they?"

"Yes, " said Jane, getting up unsteadily from the floor, "I think he'sdead. "

Fleck bent to examine the body of his aide, feeling for the pulse. 

"Too bad, " he murmured. "That last bullet of old Hoff's got him, but hedied in a good cause. "

Jane, brushing away the tears that came welling unbidden into her eyes, turned now for the first time since his surrender to look at Frederic. 

She had expected as she looked at him lying there shackled on the floorto read in his expression humiliation at his plight, grief at thefailure of his effort to aid Germany, possibly reproach for her inhaving aided in entrapping him. To her amazement there was nothing ofthis in his face. 

As he lay there on the floor he was observing her with a tender look oflove, and in his eyes what was still more puzzling was an unmistakableexpression of triumph and happiness. 

CHAPTER XVII

SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

Bewildered by the rapidity with which such a succession of terrifyingevents had taken place, Jane sank dazedly into a chair, trying her bestto collect her thoughts, as she looked about on the recent scene ofbattle. All of the German plotters had been overcome and captured. There, dead on the floor, lay the arch conspirator, old Otto Hoff, hisclammy face still twisted into a savage expression of malignant, defiant hate. 

And there, too, a martyr to the country's cause, lay Thomas Dean. A sobof pity rose in Jane's throat as she thought of him, and the great tearsrolled unchecked down her cheeks. He was so young, so brave, so fine. Why must Death have come to him when there was yet so much he might havedone? With his talent and education, with his wonderful spirit ofself-sacrifice, he might have gone far and high. Regretfully, sherecalled that he had loved her, and with kind pity in her heart shereproached herself for not having been able to return to this fine, clean, American youth the affection she had inspired in him. 

Thomas Dean, she told herself, was the type of man she should haveloved, a man of her own people, with her own ideals, a man of hercountry, her flag, and yet--

There on the floor, not a dozen feet away from her, shameful circlets ofsteel girdling both his wrists and his ankles, lay the one man for whomshe knew now she cared the most in all the world, the man she had justbetrayed into Chief Fleck's hands. 

Bitterly she reproached herself for not having tried to induce Fredericto escape. In mental anguish she pictured him--the man sheloved--standing in the prisoner's dock in some courtroom, branded as aspy, as a leader of spies, charged with an attempt to slaughter theinhabitants--the women and children--of a sleeping, unprotected city. With growing horror it came to her that in all probability she herselfwould be called on to testify against him. It might even be herevidence that would result in his being led out before a firing squadand put to an ignominious death. 

She dared not even look in his direction now. What must he be thinkingabout her? He had known that she loved him. In despair and doubt shewondered whether he could understand that she, too, had been influencedto perform her soul-wracking task by a sense of honor, of duty to hercountry equally as potent as that which had impelled him to participatein this terrible plan to destroy New York. Why had she not informed himthat his plans were known to the United States Government's agents?Surely she could have convinced him that his was a hopeless mission. Theplot would have been successfully thwarted, and he would not be lyingthere in shackles, but, even though forced to flee, who knew, perhapssome day after peace had come, he might have been able to return forher. A great sob rose from her heart, but she stifled it back. She wouldbe brave and true. She must be glad for those of her people that hadbeen saved. 

But her parents! What would they say? Her father and mother soon nowmust learn that she had been deceiving them day after day. How horrifiedand amazed they would be to learn that the chauffeur she had broughtinto the household was in reality a government detective, and that she, their daughter, had been a witness of his tragic death. What would theythink when they learned about her part in this gruesome drama that hadjust been enacted? They, serene in their trust in her, supposing she wasat the home of one of her girl friends, were peacefully asleep in theirquiet apartment. How horror-stricken her mother would be if she couldhave seen her daughter at this moment, alone at midnight in a mountainshack, one girl among a band of strange men--and two men stretched deadon the floor. 

And Frederic! Always her perturbed imaginings led back to Frederic, tothe terrible fate that lay in store for him, to the awfulness of warthat had put between them an impassable gulf of blood and guilt andtreachery that, in spite of their love for each other, kept them atcross purposes and made them enemies. Why, she vaguely wondered, mustgovernments disagree and start wars and make men hate and kill eachother? What was it all for?

In the midst of her mental wanderings she became conscious that Fleckwas speaking to Carter. 

"I'll stay here with Miss Strong and the prisoners, " he was saying. "While we are waiting for the men to return with the cars, you'd bettermake a search of the house. "

"Why not wait until daylight for that?" suggested Carter. 

"It is not safe, " the chief objected. "To-night is the time to do it. Aplot important enough to have the especial attention of the war officein Berlin must have many important persons involved in it. Somebody withmoney in New York, some influential German sympathizer, must have helpedold Hoff set up these aeroplanes here and equip his shop. Some chemicalplant supplied the material for those bombs. It must have taken hundredsof thousands of dollars to carry the plan to completion. Men rich enoughand powerful enough to have put through this plot are powerful enough tobe still dangerous. The minute word reaches the city that the plan hasmiscarried there will be some one up here posthaste to destroy or removeany damaging evidence we may have overlooked. Now is the time to do oursearching. "

"You're right, Chief, " Carter admitted. "It would not surprise me ifthere is not a wireless plant here. I'll soon find out. "

"Let me help, " cried Jane. 

Her nerves were suffering from a sharp reaction. All through theexcitement of the attack she had remained calm and collected, but nowshe felt that if she remained another minute in the same room with thetwo bodies, if she stayed near that row of shackled prisoners, if sheshould chance to catch Frederic's eye, she either would burst intohysterical weeping or would collapse entirely. If only there was someactivity in which she could engage it might serve to divert the currentof maddening thoughts that kept overwhelming her. With something to doshe might regain her self-control. 

"Please let me help Mr. Carter, " she begged. 

"Certainly, " said Fleck, "go ahead. You have earned the right to doanything you wish to-night. "

Guided by the light of an electric torch Carter and she quickly madetheir way to the upper floor. In most of the rooms they found only cheapcots with blankets, evidently the sleeping quarters of the workmen, butin one of the rooms was a desk, and from it a ladder led to anunfinished attic. Boldly climbing the ladder and flashing their torchabout they quickly located a high-powered wireless outfit. It wasmounted on a sliding shelf by which it could be quickly concealed in asecret cupboard, but evidently the plotters had felt so secure fromintrusion in their retreat that they had been in the habit of leavingit exposed. 

"I thought we'd find it, " said Carter exultantly. "It's an ideallocation, up here in the mountains. I'd better smash it at once. "

"Wait, " warned Jane, thoughtfully, "they spoke of having received awireless message from those dreadful X-boats lying there off the coast. If we could only find their code-book, perhaps--"

"Right, " cried Carter, catching her idea at once. 

Together they descended to the room below and began ransacking thedesk, Jane holding the light while Carter examined the papersthey found. 

"Their system sometimes is bad for them, " said Carter. "Here's a ledgerwith the names of all the men employed here and the amounts paid toeach. And look, " he went on excitedly, "look what the stupid fools havedone with their German methodicalness--here are entries showing all thesupplies they obtained, from whom they got them and what they cost. There's evidence here for a hundred convictions. We'll just take thatbook along. "

There was one small drawer in the desk that was locked. RuthlesslyCarter smashed the woodwork and pried it open. Its only contents was asmall parcel, a folded paper in a parchment envelope. Hastily he drewforth the paper and studied it intently. 

"It's a code, " he cried, "a naval code, evidently the very one they usedto communicate with those boats. I'll wager the Washington people evenhaven't a copy of it. That's a great find. Come on, we've got enough forone night. "

"Do any of the men in our party understand wireless?" asked Jane asthey descended. 

"Sure, " said Carter, "Sills does. He used to be the radio man on abattleship. "

"Couldn't he be left on watch here?" suggested Jane, "and try to signalthose X-boats and keep them waiting until to-morrow night? Maybe by thattime our--"

"I get you, " cried Carter; "that's a good idea. Explain it to theChief. "

As Jane unfolded her plan, suggesting the possibility of sendingAmerican cruisers out to search for the X-boats after Sills had luredthem by false messages to the surface, Fleck heartily approved of it. 

"I'll leave Sills here with one other man to guard the house, " he said. "We'll have to let poor Dean's body remain here for the present, too. We'll need all the room in the cars for the prisoners. "

There was still much to be done. While some of the men wereunceremoniously carrying out the shackled prisoners and piling them inthe cars, others, under Carter's direction, crippled the three"wonder-workers" and dismantled them, carrying their dangerous cargo ofbombs into the woods and concealing them. 

None of the prisoners, since the moment the shackles had been put on, had uttered a word. Sullen silence held all of them unprotestingly inits grip. Even Frederic kept his peace, though from time to time hisglance roved about, seeking Jane, and always in his eyes was a strangelook, not of defeat, nor of shame, but rather of exultant triumph. Janestill dared not trust herself to look in his direction, but Fleck andCarter, too, observed curiously the expression in his eyes. Was he, theywondered, rejoicing over Dean's untimely end? Did he, with true Prussianarrogance, in spite of the failure of his plot, still dare to hope thatwith Dean out of the way, he might escape punishment and yet win JaneStrong? Even as they picked him up, the last of the prisoners, and puthim in the rear seat of the chief's car, his eyes still sought for Jane. 

It was long after midnight before the strange cavalcade left themountain shack. Fleck's car led the way, with the chief himself at thewheel, and Jane beside him. Crowded on the rear seat were Frederic andtwo other prisoners, and standing in the tonneau, facing them with hisrevolver drawn in case they should make an attempt to escape in spite oftheir shackles, was Fleck's chauffeur. Carter was at the wheel of thesecond car with five prisoners and a man on guard, and the arrangementin the third car was the same. Six men and a girl to transport thirteenprisoners! Inwardly Fleck was congratulating himself on his forethoughtin having provided shackles enough to go around, for otherwise he surelywould have had a perilous job on his hands. 

As they rode down the mountain lane, Jane rejoiced at the darkness thathid her face, both from Fleck and from Frederic on the seat behind. Nowthat there was no activity to distract her maddening thoughts once morepaced in turmoil through her brain. She loved this man, and she wasleading him to disgrace and death. She hated and despised him. He was atreacherous, dangerous enemy of her country whom she had helped to trap, and she was glad, glad, glad. No, no! She wasn't glad. She loved him. Hehad given her that sealed packet and had charged her to keep it forhim. He couldn't be all bad. Why must she love him? Her mind told her hewas a criminal, an enemy, a spy, a murderer, yet her wilful heartinsisted that she loved him. How strange life was! She and Fredericloved each other. Why could they not marry and be happy? Why was War?Why must nations fight? Why must people hate each other? Was the wholeworld mad? Was she going mad herself?

Slowly and carefully, Fleck, with his lights on full, had steered theautomobile down the narrow roadway through the woods. He had just turnedthe car safely into the main road, and stopped to look back to see howclosely the other cars were following. Suddenly from the wayside a dozenmen in uniform sprang up, the glint of their guns made visible by theautomobile lights. 

"Halt, " cried a voice of authority. 

The one glimpse he had caught of the uniform had conveyed to Fleck thewelcome fact that the party surrounding him were Americans--cavalrytroopers. 

"Chief Fleck, " he announced, by way of identification. "Who are you?"

A tall figure in officer's clothes sprang up on the running board andpeered into Fleck's face. 

"Thank God, Chief, " he said, "that it's you. "

"Colonel Brook-White, " cried Fleck in amazement, recognizing the voiceas that of one of the officers in charge of the British Government'sIntelligence Service in America. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to round up some bally German spies, " explained Brook-White. 

"I've beaten you to it, " cried Fleck, with a note of triumph in histone. "I've got them all here in shackles. "

"Good, " said Brook-White delightedly. "I was fearful I'd be too late. There was delay in getting a message to me. As soon as I had it, I triedto reach you and couldn't. I dared not wait but dashed up here in mycar. I knew there were some American troopers camped near here, and Ipersuaded the commander to detail some of his men to help me. Did youreally capture the Hoff chap, old Otto?"

"He's better than captured, " said Fleck. "He's lying dead back there inthe house. "

"Good, " cried Brook-White. "He was infernally dangerous according to myadvices--but Captain Seymour--where is he? Wasn't he working with you?"

"Captain Seymour?" cried Fleck in astonishment. "I never heard of him. Who's Captain Seymour?"

"He's one of my chaps, " explained Brook-White. "Wasn't it he who steeredyou up here?"

"I should say not, " said Fleck emphatically. 

"Good Lord, " cried the British colonel excitedly. "You don't supposethose bloody Boches got him at the last--after all he's been through? Ihope he's safe. "

"Don't worry, Colonel Brook-White, " came the calm voice of Frederic Hofffrom the rear seat. "Chief Fleck has me here safe in shackles with theother prisoners. "

"God, " cried Fleck, in astonished perplexity. "Is Frederic Hoff aBritisher--one of your men?"

"Rather, " said Brook-White. "Chief Fleck, may I present Captain SirFrederic Seymour, of the Royal Kentish Dragoons. "

But Fleck was too busy just then to heed the introduction, or to payattention to the muttered "_Donnerwetters_" of indignation that burstfrom the lips of his other prisoners. 

Jane Strong had fainted dead away against his shoulder. 

CHAPTER XVIII

WHAT THE PACKET CONTAINED

"But, " said Jane, "I can't understand it yet. How did you, a Britishofficer, happen to be living with old Otto Hoff? How did you ever gethim to trust you with his terrible secrets?"

Captain Seymour chortled gleefully. Now that he was arrayed in properBritish clothes, once more comfortable in the uniform of his regimentand had his monocle in place and was with Jane again, everything lookedradiantly different. Even his speech no longer retained itsinternational quality but now was tinctured with London mannerisms. 

"Oh, I say, " he replied, "that was a ripping joke on the ballyDutchmen. "

Jane eyed him uncertainly. He seemed almost like a stranger to her inthis unfamiliar guise, though for hours she had been eagerly lookingforward to his coming. 

The exciting developments of the night before still were to her verypuzzling. She recalled Frederic's identification of himself, and afterthat all was blank. When she had come to she had found herself in amotor being rapidly driven toward New York in the early dawn, withCarter as her escort. He had not been inclined to be at allcommunicative. 

"Let the Captain tell you the story himself, " said Carter. "He knows allthe details. "

"But when can I see him?" questioned Jane. "When, " she hesitated, remembering the shameful bonds that had held him, "when will hebe free?"

"He's as free this minute as we are, " Carter explained. "It didn't takethe Chief long to get the bracelets off, after Colonel Brook-White hadidentified him. There's a lot for the Captain to do still, but restassured, he'll waste no time getting back to the city to see you. "

"I hope not, " sighed the girl. 

She was too weary, too weak from the revulsion of feeling that had comeon learning that her lover instead of being a dastardly spy was awonderful hero, to make even a pretense at maidenly modesty. She wantedto see Frederic too much to care what any one thought. 

Slipping into her home fortunately without arousing any of her family, she had gone to bed with the intention of getting a rest of an hour ortwo. Sleep, she was sure, would be impossible, for she felt far tooexcited and upset. Yet she had not realized how utterly exhausted shewas. Hardly had her head touched the pillow before she was lost toeverything, and it was long after noon when a maid aroused her toannounce that Captain Seymour had 'phoned that he would call at three. 

As she dressed to receive him, she was wondering how she should greethim. Blushingly she recalled the impassioned kiss he had pressed on herlips--why it was only yesterday. It had seemed ages and ages ago, somuch had intervened. Mingled with a shyness that arose from her vividmemories was also a shade of indignation. Why had he not told her? Didhe not trust her? She resolved to punish him for not taking her into hisconfidence by an air of coldness toward him. Certainly he deserved it. 

Yet, when he arrived, so full of animation did he appear to be, thatthe lofty manner in which she greeted him apparently went unnoticed. Hemet her with a warm handclasp and anxious inquiries about how she feltafter all the exciting events. Too filled with eagerness to know all thedetails of his adventures she had found it difficult to maintain herpose, and soon was seated cosily beside him, asking him question afterquestion, all the while furtively studying him in his proper rôle. AsFrederic Hoff she had thought him wonderfully handsome and masterful. AsCaptain Sir Frederic Seymour, in his regimental finery, he was simplyirresistible. 

"A joke?" she repeated. "Do explain, I'm dying to know all about it. "

"It wasn't half as difficult a job as one might imagine, you know. Ourcensor chaps at home have got to be quite expert at reading letters, invisible ink and all that sort of thing. Hoff for months had beensending cipher messages to the war office in Berlin. He kept urging themto act on his all-wonderful plan for blowing up New York. They decidedfinally to try it and notified old Otto they were sending over anofficer to supervise the job. "

"What became of him? The officer they sent over?"

"Our people picked him off a Scandinavian boat and locked him up. Theytook his papers and turned them over to me. Clever, wasn't it?"

"And you took his name and his papers and came here in his place? Oh, that was a brave, brave thing to do. "

"I wouldn't say that, " said Seymour modestly. "I fancy I look a bit likethe chap, and I speak the language perfectly. "

"But it was such a terrible risk to take, " cried Jane with a shudder. "Suppose they'd found you out?"

"No danger of that, " laughed Frederic. "Old Otto never had seen the chapwho was coming. His real nephew, Frederic Hoff, whose American birthcertificate was used, died years ago. Besides I had the German officer'spapers and knew just what his instructions were. The worst of it waswhen old Otto insisted every night on toasting the Kaiser, and when hekept trying to get me mixed up in his dirty schemes. I had to gothrough with the former once in a while, but on the latter, I--how doyou Americans say it--just stalled along. My orders were to land himonly on the big thing--his wonder-workers. "

"But how did you explain to him that British uniform?"

"Now that was really an idea. The old fellow was getting a bit cross andsuspicious with me because he thought I wasn't doing enough while theywere getting his 'wonder-workers' ready. At one time he was sodistrustful of me that he had me followed. "

"Oh, yes, I know, " said Jane quickly. With a thrill she remembered thescene she had witnessed from her window the night K-19, her predecessoron Chief Fleck's staff, had been murdered. In her relief at discoveringthat Frederic was no German spy, she had forgotten that for weeks andweeks she had all but believed him guilty of murder. Now, something toldher, surely and confidently, that he could explain it all. 

"I saw you from my window one night before I met you, " she went on. "Aman was following you, and you chased him around the corner. "

"I remember that, " he said; "the poor chap was found dead the nextmorning. Old Otto killed him. The man had been following me, and I hadimagined that he was one of old Otto's spies and knocked him down. Icouldn't find anything on him to indicate who he was, so just as he wasbeginning to revive I left him and came on home. It seems old Otto hadbeen watching him trail me. He followed along and shot the man. Hegleefully told me about it the next day, the hound. I ought to havegiven him over to the police, but that would have upset our plans. "

"I see, " said Jane; "what about Lieutenant Kramer? Was he working withold Mr. Hoff?"

"That's the funny part of it. Here in this country you've got so manykinds of secret agents they're always trampling on each others' toes. There's your treasury agents, and your Department of Justice agents, andyour army intelligence men and your naval intelligence men--ninedifferent sets of investigators you've got, counting the volunteers, sosome one told me, and each lot trying to make a record for itself andnot taking the others into its confidence. Rather stupid I call it. "

"I should say so, " agreed Jane. 

"Here was I watching old Hoff for our government, and Kramer watching mefor your navy and Fleck watching both of us. It was a funny jumble. "

"But about that uniform?" Jane persisted. 

"When the old man got to ragging me a bit, I felt I must do something toconvince him I was all right. I suggested trying to get a Britishuniform and maybe learning thereby some secrets. It delighted himhugely. Of course I just went down to Colonel Brook-White and got my ownuniform, and that was all there was to that. "

"It puzzled Mr. Carter, though, how you got it in and out of the house. He used to open every bundle that came for Mr. Hoff. "

Sir Frederic laughed delightedly. 

"I had a messenger who used to bring it back and forth in a big lady'shat-box. It always was addressed to you, my dear, but the boy hadinstructions to deliver it to me. "

"Humph, " snapped Jane with mock indignation. "And when did you firstfind out that I was helping Chief Fleck watch you?"

"I suspected it from the start. Kramer told me how you'd becomeacquainted with him. Then when I heard you 'phoning Carter about thebookstore I knew for certain. "

"Oh, that's one thing now I wanted to ask about--those messages Hoffleft in the bookstore. Who were they for?"

"Instructions to a German advertising agency on how to word someadvertisements that contained a code. "

"Oh, those Dento advertisements?"

"You knew about them?" cried Seymour in astonishment. 

"Of course, " said Jane proudly. "I was the one who deciphered them; butwhat did that girl do with those messages? Carter had a theory that sheslipped them under a dachshund's collar. "

"That theory's just like Carter, " laughed Frederic--"regular detectivestuff. I never heard of any dachshund's being used. The girl used toslip them into a letter box in her apartment-house hallway. Two minuteslater a man would get them and carry them to their destination. "

"The traitors in our navy--the men who signalled old Otto and Lena Krausabout the transports--who were they? They are the scoundrels I'd like tosee arrested and shot. "

"Never worry. They'll all meet their deserts. I can't tell even you whothey are, but I've given your Chief Fleck a list of them. They will bequickly rounded up now. What else can I tell you?"

"There's this, " said Jane, the color rising to her cheeks as she drewforth from its hiding place in the bosom of her gown the packet he hadentrusted to her the morning before, its seals still intact. 

"What?" he cried in delight. "You kept it safe? You did not open it evenwhen you saw me arrested, when you must have been convinced that I was aspy? Girl, dear girl"--his voice became a caress, and the light of loveflamed up in his eyes, "you did trust me then, in spite of everything. "

"I had promised you, and I kept my promise, " faltered Jane, strivingfor words to explain, though she had been unable to explain her actionseven to herself. "I think my heart trusted you all the time, even thoughmy head and eyes made me believe you were what you pretended to be. Evenwhen things looked blackest my heart persisted that you were true. "

"God bless your heart for that, " cried Frederic, as he took the littlepacket from her hands and began breaking the seals. "Yesterday morning, when old Otto's plans were ready, I foresaw the danger of the trip aheadof me. I realized I might never come back alive. If they discovered whoI was a second too soon it would mean my death. I dared not, for mycountry's sake, tell even you what I was doing. My honor was at stake. Idared not drop the slightest hint nor write a single line. The onlything I'd kept about me in the apartment that wasn't filthy German stuffwas what's in here. "

Slowly he was unwrapping something rolled in tissue paper, as Jane, eager-eyed, looked wonderingly on. 

"But, " he went on, "I couldn't go away from you without leaving sometoken, some clue. If it happened that I never came back, I wanted youto know--"

He stopped abruptly. 

"To know what?" questioned the girl breathlessly. 

"To know that I loved you, darling, better than all else save honor, " hesaid, taking her into his arms. "See the token I left behind for you. It's an old, old family ring with the Seymour crest. You'll wear it, girl of mine, won't you, wear it always. "

Unhesitatingly Jane Strong thrust forth the third finger on her lefthand, and instinctively her lips turned upward toward his. 

And no matter what might have happened just then in the apartment nextdoor, neither of them would have known anything about it. 

THE END