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"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 was something so monstrously unbelievable about his audacity that she could hardly believe her ears. What sort of a credulous stupid creature was he, she angrily asked herself, that in one breath he could all but confess to her that he was a spy and in the next beseech her to do him a favor. Yet there came to her now a remembrance of her duty to her country. She felt that she must mask her feelings toward him, that if she was to be of service she must endeavor bravely to lead him on. She must 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 brave American boys had undertaken facing the fire of death-dealing guns, facing the terrible gas attacks, living for days and weeks in those terrible trenches? Reinforced by a sense of duty, she made a pitiable effort 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 he held out to her. In spite of her agitation she forced herself to study it observingly, making note that it was tied with strong cord and sealed in several places with red wax. Curiously, too, she noted that on it was written her own name.
"Jane," said Hoff, "to-night I am going away. I may be absent for only a day or two if all goes well, but it is possible I may never come back,--may never be able to see you again."
She caught her breath sharply. There was the solemnity of finality in his tones. Where was he going? What might happen to him? She realized that the journey he was about to make was in connection with the plot that she and Chief Fleck were seeking to uncover. Evidently he antic.i.p.ated peril in what he was about to undertake. Suppose he should be trapped in the commission of some act inimical to America's welfare? What would happen to him? He would be arrested, of course. More than likely he would be sent to prison. He might even be shot as a spy. What if 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 persuade him to give up his plans. She tried hard to steady herself, to think calmly. She must listen to every word he was saying and try to remember it.
"This little packet is for you," he went on. "I want you to keep it safely. In case anything happens, in the event that within one month I have not returned and you have heard nothing of me, I wish you to open it 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 a score of questions, but none of them succeeded in pa.s.sing the barrier of her trembling lips.
"Promise me," he said softly yet impellingly, as he placed the little packet 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 held her there, his face close to hers, his blue eyes burning into hers with a steady inscrutable gaze as if he was trying to read in them the love her lips had refused to speak.
Then, so quickly that it was all over before she quite realized what had happened, he had kissed her pa.s.sionately full on the lips and was gone.
Overcome with the la.s.situde which follows emotional crises, trembling in every limb, weak as from a long illness, the girl sank back into a chair, still clutching in her hand the sealed packet Hoff had entrusted to her. Minute after minute she sat there with staring eyes, with heart beating madly, with her whole body racked with the torment of her thoughts.
Slowly she lifted the packet and turned it over and over, wondering what it could possibly contain, questioning herself as to what could have been Frederic Hoff's motive in entrusting it to her. Was there, she wondered, under those seals, some evidence of his guilt and treachery that he had not dared to leave behind him? He must have known that she suspected 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 advantage of it and extorted from her her promise to keep it safe?
Wherein lay her duty now? More than ever she was certain that Frederic Hoff was on some hazardous mission for the enemy. He had all but admitted his nationality to her. Her own country's welfare demanded that the Hoffs' plans should be discovered and thwarted. Should she, or should she not open the package? Possibly it contained some secret code, some clue to the dastardly activities in which he and his uncle were engaged.
But her heart rebelled. She recalled what he had said, that she must take him on trust. The memory of his burning kiss, of that last earnest look he had given her, refused to be forgotten. Whatever he was, however base the work in which he was engaged, she knew down deep in her heart that Frederic Hoff had been earnestly sincere when he had said that he loved her.
As she debated with herself what she ought to do, the telephone rang again. It was Chief Fleck.
"Can you meet me at the 110th Street subway station in half an hour?" he asked. "I'll be waiting in my car. Arrange it, if you can without arousing 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 the sealed packet, still unopened, into the bosom of her gown.
"I promised him," she said almost fiercely. "I'll keep my promise. That much 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 at the place he had designated. She was still badly wrought up by the scene through which she had just pa.s.sed with Frederic. There were moments when her heart insisted that, regardless of the despicable crimes that were laid at his door, she should forsake everything for him, for the man she loved. Had there been in her mind the slightest possible doubt as to his guilt she might indeed have wavered, but the evidence of his treachery seemed too manifest! She loathed herself for caring for him and felt it her sacred duty to go on with her work of aiding the government in trying to entrap both of them; yet how could she ever do it?
As she waited she debated with herself whether or not to tell Chief Fleck what had pa.s.sed between herself and Frederic. After all, why should she? That was her own secret, not the country's. If she stifled her love, and gave her best efforts to aiding the other operatives in running down the conspirators, what more could be expected of her? Certainly she was not going to tell any one of the sealed packet Frederic had entrusted to her. She had promised him she would keep it safe. 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 be burning 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 he drew up before the subway station in a low car built for speed. On the seat beside the chauffeur was a young man whom she recognized as another of the operatives. As Fleck swung the door of the tonneau open for her she noticed lying on the floor under a rug several rifles and drew back questioningly.
"Come on, Miss Strong," he cried gaily. "Don't be afraid of them. We may be glad we have them before we return from our hunting expedition."
"But," she asked hesitatingly as she took her seat beside him, "you don't expect to shoot these men--without a trial."
Her heart seemed torn in anguish as she sensed anew the peril that lay ahead for Frederic. Misgivings that she might be unable to fulfil her task seized her, and she was smitten with reproach for her own conduct toward him. Why, an hour ago, when there was still opportunity, had she not warned Frederic? If he were really sincere in the affection he professed for her maybe she might have persuaded him, if not to betray his comrades, at least to abandon them and escape from the country. Yet even now her reason told her that any plea she might have made would have been worse than futile. Above and beyond his love for her she understood that he held sacred what he conceived to be his duty, his misguided 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 her country, cost her what it might, yet anxiously she awaited Chief Fleck's reply to her question.
"Wouldn't I shoot them all on sight, gladly, the d.a.m.ned spies," he responded. "That's the great trouble with this country, Miss Strong. We're too soft-hearted and chivalrous. The Germans realize that war and sentiment have no place together. If killing babies and destroying churches will in their opinion help them win the war they do it without compunction. The civilized world decided that poison gas was too brutal and dastardly for use, even against an enemy, but that didn't stop the Huns from using it. They put duty to Germany above all else, and if their country expects it are ready to rob, murder, use bombs, betray friends, do anything and everything, comforted by the knowledge that even if we do catch them at it here in this country all we will do to them will be put them in jail for a year or two. If I had my way I'd shoot them all on sight."
"Without any evidence--without trying them?" questioned Jane.
"Without trial, yes--without evidence, no; but in the case of these Hoffs we have evidence enough to stand them both up and shoot them."
"Have you learned more?" she asked quickly. "Is Frederic, too, involved with his uncle?"
He shot an appraising glance at her. He had been inclined to regard Dean's suspicion that she was in love with the younger Hoff as the mere figment of jealousy, but where two young persons of the opposite s.e.x are thrown together, there is always the possibility of romance. Jane colored a little under his searching glance, yet what he read in her face seemed to satisfy his doubts, and he made up his mind to take her fully into his confidence.
"Thanks to your quick wit in reading those advertis.e.m.e.nts," he said, "we have now a fairly complete index of the Hoffs' activities in the last six months. I have been spending the last two hours in going over all the Dento advertis.e.m.e.nts that have appeared. For weeks they have been sending 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 pa.s.sports, detailed statements of the sailings of our transports, directions for obtaining materials for making bombs, instructions for blowing up munition plants, suggestions for smuggling rubber, orders for fomenting strikes. They even had the nerve to use the name of William Foxley, signed to a testimonial for Dento."
"Who is William Foxley?" asked Jane curiously.
"In the Wilhelmstra.s.se code that was in use when Von Bernstorff was still in this country; in sending their wireless messages they made frequent use of proper names which had a code meaning. Boy-ed was 'Richard Houston,' Von Papen was 'Thomas Hoggson' and Bolo Pascha was always 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 advertis.e.m.e.nts?"
"Not at all. Hugo Schmidt, who was reputed to be the paymaster of the gang, was caught trying to burn a copy of this code at the German Club. With the records of their wireless messages our government managed to reconstruct the whole code. The use of a word or two from this code in these advertis.e.m.e.nts is most significant. It shows that whoever prepared these advertis.e.m.e.nts was high in the confidence of the German government. Only the very topnotch spies are likely to be permitted to know the diplomatic code."
"And you think, then, that Otto Hoff may be the head of the conspirators in 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 became too hot for Von Papen and Boy-ed. The old man, I believe, merely carried out his orders. I doubt even if they are uncle and nephew."
"I think you are wrong about that," protested Jane. "Whenever I was listening over the dictograph it was always the old man who was so bitter against America. It was he who talked about the wonder-workers and the necessity for haste. I never heard Frederic say anything--anything disloyal, that is."
"The fact that he knew enough to keep his mouth closed shows that he is the more intelligent of the two. Don't forget, too, that at times he even dared to don the uniform of a British officer. You saw him yourself. Undoubtedly he is the more dangerous of the pair."
"But who read these advertis.e.m.e.nts?" asked Jane, seeking to change the subject. "For whom were the bulletins intended?"
"It was one of their ways of keeping in communication with their thousands of secret agents all over this country. I wouldn't be surprised if occasionally these advertis.e.m.e.nts were printed in Texas papers and shipped over the border into Mexico. We have been watching the mails and the telephone and telegraph lines for months, yet all the while Mexico has been sending messages across, telling the U-boats everything they needed to know. We never thought of checking up the advertising in papers in the Mexican mail."
"But what about the messages old Mr. Hoff left in the bookstores? Was that part of the plan, too?"
"It may have been simply a duplicate method of communication in case the other failed. The Germans here know that they are constantly watched and take every precaution. We'll land that girl as soon as we have the Hoffs safe behind the bars, and then we'll soon see if Carter's dachshund 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 it Lieutenant Kramer?"
"Probably," said Chief Fleck carelessly, "that is not my end of the work. It is up to the Naval Intelligence Bureau to clean out the spies in the navy. I'm after the boss-spy. After we land him it will be easier to get the small fry. A defiant German prisoner once boasted to me that Germany had a man on every American ship, in every American regiment, and in every department in Washington. I suspect it comes pretty near being true. A country that has so many citizens with German names and such an enormous population of German descent has its hands full."
As they talked the chief's car had crossed the ferry, and turning north through Englewood, was heading rapidly in the direction of West Point.
"Where are we going now?" Jane ventured to ask. "To the place where I was yesterday--where we had the accident?"
"Not directly," the chief replied. "I sent Carter and some men up there ahead of us to do some reconnoitering. I'll get in touch with Carter at the restaurant at the State Park. He was to call me up. We are nearly there now."
As the car swung into the park and stopped before the entrance of the two-story restaurant building, Fleck sprang hastily out and started for the telephone but stopped abruptly at the sight of a young man with bandaged head and with one arm in a sling who rose from the concrete steps of the building to greet him.
"Why, Dean," he exclaimed in amazement, "what are you doing here? How did you get here?"
"You don't think I was going to be left out at the finish," laughed the chauffeur.
"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 get here?"
"Carter stopped on his way out to make sure about the road. I wanted to come 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 the doctor's jitney did the rest."
"Well," growled the chief, with simulated indignation, though secretly delighted with Dean's show of spirit, "I suppose there's nothing else to do 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 afraid yesterday that you had been badly hurt."
"It was a close shave for both of us," he admitted, flushing with delight at the warmth of her greeting, "but what are you doing here? The Chief had no business to bring you on a trip like this."
All his affection for the girl had revived at this unexpected sight of her, and with a lover's righteous anxiety he resented Fleck's having exposed her to the probable perils of this expedition to the enemy's secret lair.
"They needed me," she said simply, "to show them the way."
"That need exists no longer," he protested, "since I am here. The Chief must send you back."
"Don't be absurd," she objected warmly.
"But it is no place for a woman," he insisted doggedly, kicking meaningly 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 resist any 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 least wait 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 protection toward her.
She was glad for the presence of the two other men in the car. She sensed that it was only their being there that kept Dean from making a scene. There was nothing in his manner toward her now of the obsequious chauffeur. While she admitted to herself that there was no longer the necessity for his continuing in his fict.i.tious character she strongly resented his loverlike jealousy for her welfare and welcomed the chief's return, 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 no opportunity for Dean to make his threatened protest against Jane's presence.
"I got Carter on the 'phone," Fleck explained hurriedly as they swung out of the park and turned northward. "He has succeeded in locating the place the Hoffs go every week. It is about three miles back off the road, over toward the river from the place where you two had that accident yesterday. Away off there in the woods in a deserted locality is a sort of club, the members of which are Austrians or Germans. They have given it out that they are health enthusiasts and mountain climbers, 'Friends of the Air,' they call themselves."
"Who are they really? What are they doing there?" asked Jane interestedly.
"Carter has not had time yet to learn much about them. The place was some sort of a health resort or sanitarium that failed several years ago. Last summer it seems to have been taken over by this bunch of Germans. At times there are only two or three of them there, but recently the number has increased. Carter thinks there must be a dozen men there now."
"How did he locate the place?" asked Dean.
"Carter is a real detective," said the chief enthusiastically. "He reasoned it out that where there were Germans there must be beer. He scouted along the main road until he found a wayside saloon where, as he had shrewdly suspected, they got their liquid supplies. From the proprietor of the place and the hangers-on he had no trouble in getting the 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 this evening. At least young Mr. Hoff told me this morning that he was going away this evening. That makes two more on the other side."
"And one of them," muttered Fleck, "a mighty dangerous man."