CHAPTER XIIIA SCENTGeorge Senf was leonine. Aroused suddenly from his bed, the disorder of his long white hair and beard gave him a singularly wild and ferocious aspect. But he got out a long-stemmed pipe and after lighting it, settled down with a steady eye to listen to the story that Liederman and Rowland told him. He heard them through to the end, putting in keen questions or incisive remarks here and there which did much to reassure Rowland that their case was in capable hands. This was a leader of men, a thinker and a man of action, and his comprehension of all aspects of the situation and the definite manner of his decisions, left no room to doubt that he believed a crisis to be impending between the forces he represented and the powers of the government which stood behind Khodkine. When Liederman and Rowland had finished he sat for a long while on his bed smoking, his brows frowning, staring at the opposite wall. At last he waved them away."Go," he said shortly. "You will need your sleep. My work begins now—at once. Tomorrow we will have a report from Fraulein Korasov. We need her. The meeting of the Committee is tomorrow night. Come here when you have slept and we will plan further. Good night."And so the two men returned to the Russischer Hof and found the sleep of which they were both much in need. But it was with some mental reservations that Rowland went to bed, for he had vowed that until Tanya was found he would never rest in peace. He had seen something of the double nature of this Gregory Hochwald, and the possible dangers to which she might be subjected filled him constantly with vague alarms. But he realized that he must rest to be effective upon the morrow. If his conscience troubled him, he had no chance to be aware of it, for he was sound asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.Liederman was hammering upon the door of the adjoining room which he occupied before Rowland awoke and sat up in his bed, blinking at the light of broad day, and after a hurried bath and breakfast they called upon Zoya Rochal and hastened to the house of Georg Senf.They found the Socialist leader in his bedroom, which was blue with the tobacco smoke of a secret conference of several men, three of them leaders, as Rowland afterward discovered, in labor organizations allied to the Socialist-Democratic and Socialist-Revolutionary parties. As the new comers entered there was a silence except for the words of greeting of Georg Senf and they all rose and made place. One of them wore a workman's blouse, and the others were shabbily dressed but in all three Rowland noted the same characteristics--the broad brows of intelligence, the firm lips of resolution, the clear penetrating gaze of men accustomed to think for themselves."This is Herr Rowland," said Georg Senf briefly, "the new President of the Order of Nemi, who has come from Switzerland on this sudden mission."The men bowed and shook the hand of the American gravely."You will not find Munich lacking in ardor, Herr Rowland. Our followers are many and we are strong," said one, named Conrad Weiss, who was chief telegrapher of the Munich Post Office."You will need to be strong," said Rowland, "for there is every sign that a test of your power is coming soon.""We are ready for it, Herr Rowland," rumbled the deep bass of Herr Hoffner, who wore the blouse, "and the people of Bavaria are behind us. They are sick--war weary. And the time has come.""Have you arms--ammunition?" asked Rowland pointedly.The question seemed to have probed deep below the surface, for no one replied at once. And then spoke Herr Yaeger, a smallish man with long hair and the dark eyes of a dreamer."Arms--ammunition. Yes, perhaps--here and there. But arms areverboten. It is necessary that we move with caution. Nor do we wish to win with arms or ammunition, Herr Rowland. Stronger weapons,--poverty, hunger, the rights of one man as against another. They will triumph in the end."Rowland assumed an air of dignity he was far from feeling, for deep in his heart he realized as these men did not that strong as their organization was, or firm its affiliations, the time would be long in coming for any nation which so feared theverbotensign. He was sorry for them, but he dared not tell them so. He had that maddening inclination to laugh which came to him sometimes upon the most sober occasions, but he bowed his head deeply, saying nothing, which as every one knows--is the part of wisdom.In this he added to the respect with which they held his office and when Georg Senf drew the meeting to a close, offered him all the help that was in their power to find the money that had been taken."That is well," finished Senf, "you will carry out your instructions. You, Herr Weiss, to the telegraph office and summon all leaders for tonight by the harmless code of initials. The meeting is at ten. So lose no time. You, Herr Yaeger, to your factory. You, Herr Hoffner, will keep in readiness for a further call. Herr Berghof will please remain."Now for the first time Rowland noted a figure in the corner of the room, who rose as the others went out and came forward at a sign from Herr Senf and was presented to the new arrivals.Georg Senf, relighting his long-stemmed pipe, paced the floor before the fire place."I have been busy, my friends, while you have slept," he said. "This matter of the money brooks no delay. In ten minutes after you left this house last night I had made my plans. Our comrades live all about me here and by daylight our different leaders had been notified. By breakfast time thousands of members of our organizations were combing the city in all directions. Every hotel, every pension--An hour ago we met with some success----""You've found her----?" broke in Rowland eagerly."Only to lose her again." As Rowland sprang up Senf raised his hand. "One moment. It was through no fault of our own--or of Herr Berghof's here, who could not of course have known that Fräulein Korasov's interests and mine were identical."Herr Berghof, a thin, ferret-like person, smiled and squinted as Rowland glared at him."You saw her, Herr Berghof----?"But Georg Senf broke in again with maddening, methodical Teuton insistence."All things in order, Herr Rowland," he said calmly. "A little patience and you shall know all. Herr Berghof is a Social Democrat, but not a member of the Order of Nemi. He has been brought here by Herr Weiss a while ago, somewhat against his will, but he has replied to our questions, upon the condition that the matter is kept secret! Will you relate what happened last night, Herr Berghof?"The little man cleared his throat, squinted and nodded politely."I am a stranger in Munich, a Swiss, from Basle, but I have much interest in the Socialist cause. Democracy is very near my heart and if I can help----"He glanced at Rowland, who had risen, his patience nearly exhausted."You will please proceed directly to the matter in hand," said Senf placidly. "Fräulein Korasov came to the Bayrischer Hof last night----?"Zoya Rochal shot a triumphant glance at Rowland but his gaze was fixed on Berghof."Yes, Herr Senf," the man replied, "I am connected with the management of the hotel. At about eleven, with a gentleman who called himself Herr Hochwald----""Hochwald!" muttered Rowland in surprise."That was the name--the name also given by the gentleman awaiting him in the south drawing room--who said he was expecting his arrival.""Ah, I see.""Fräulein Korasov was taken at once to a room, number two hundred and twenty-one, upon the second floor. She carried a large suit-case. I myself conducted Herr Hochwald to the south drawing room where a visitor was awaiting him. They sat conversing at once in a low tone of voice. As I was not wanted I gave Herr Hochwald the key to his room which was upon the third floor of the hotel, at some distance from that occupied by Fräulein Korasov.""I see. And then?""And then? Nothing. I went to sleep. I was very tired. You must understand, Herr Senf, we are very lacking in service at the hotel and upon the day before I had been on duty----""Proceed, Herr Berghof," growled Liederman. "At what time did you see Herr Hochwald again?""Oh, yes. It must, have been at least an hour or more later. Herr Hochwald, accompanied by Herr Förster, the man who had met him in the south drawing room, came running down the stairs and awoke me, swearing in a manner such as I have thought was only practiced by officers in the army, and demanding to be let at once into room number two hundred and twenty-one. The proceeding was most unusual, especially as Herr Hochwald had been so particular in ordering that Fräulein Korasov was not to be disturbed by anyone. They had knocked upon her door, they said, but had not been able to get a reply and feared that something had happened to the lady. So I procured my ring of pass keys, and followed them up the stairs. The matter was delicate and one which might have involved me in much difficulty with the proprietor of the hotel, but when I hesitated Herr Hochwald raved and swore again, knocking so that others nearby might easily have been awakened, and then, thinking that perhaps something might really have happened to the Fräulein, I found the proper key and opened the door."The clerk paused to get his breath and Liederman swore softly."The Fräulein was sitting upon the edge of the bed, fully dressed," he went on, "as though aroused from a sleep of utter exhaustion. But she gained her dignity and self-possession almost at once and quite naturally, demanded the meaning of the intrusion.""'The suit-case,' cried Herr Hochwald. 'You have the suit-case here?'""Fräulein Korasov looked a little bewildered. 'The suitcase? Yes, I have my suit-case here. But what----?'""At that moment Herr Förster espied the bag of Fraulein Korasov upon a table and running across the room fell upon it eagerly, and opened it. There was nothing in it but a few pieces of linen. And Hochwald let forth another of his mad cries.""'The money,' he said. 'What have you done with the money?'""The Fräulein had now risen and stood, very pale and angry.""'I don't understand you,' she said quietly. 'The money? What should I know about the money?'""Herr Hochwald stood a moment, his face working, trying to compose himself. And then turning to the officer who stood uncertainly, 'Search the room,' he ordered, 'everywhere. It must be here.'""Fräulein Korasov stood immovable. 'It is a pity, Herr Hochwald,' she said coolly, 'that you have neither honor nor decency.'""'What have you done with it?' he went on, trying to keep his composure, 'tell me now, and all may yet be well.'""'I know nothing,' she replied.""Herr Hochwald stared at her a moment and then, as though to himself. 'This is a grave matter. We shall take further steps.' And seeing me standing beside the door, he seemed suddenly to realize that I had seen and heard all that had happened, for he frowned and ordered me from the room.""'Go,' he muttered, 'and order a cab--at once. Fräulein Korasov, you will descend with me. Herr Förster, you will stay, continue the search and question the servants. You have full authority. It is understood?'""'At your orders, Herr Hochwald,' said the other.""That was all I heard, for I went below and ordered the cab, into which Herr Hochwald and the Fräulein entered and were driven away."The man paused and there was a moment of silence, when a storm of questions assailed him."The directions to the driver," cried Liederman."Herr Förster found nothing?" asked Zoya Rochal."The servants were questioned?" demanded Senf."I did not hear the directions to the driver," said Berghof, with a shifting glance at Rowland. "The man who conducted the Fräulein to her room could shed no light upon the matter.""But you. Did Herr Förster not question you?" asked Rowland keenly."Yes. He questioned this morning, and I answered him. It is not healthy not to answer the questions of one in such authority."There was another silence, baffled it seemed on the part of the questioners. Herr Berghof took up his hat and rose. Rowland no longer smiled. Liederman rocked to and fro from one foot to the other by the mantel-shelf. Zoya Rochal nervously lighted a cigarette."One moment, Herr Berghof," said Rowland, whose mind had been tracing the interstices of the puzzle in his own American way. "You say that this Herr Förster has questioned the servants of the hotel?"Herr Berghof hesitated a moment."One or two only. What was the use? The Fräulein had been there but an hour or more.""But you seem to forget that in that hour much happened," said Rowland. "If that money was taken from the valise of Herr Hochwald, it was taken before he reached the hotel, not afterward. If Fräulein Korasov took it--ah----" He paused a moment, then went on quickly, "She had a valise, you say. Empty?"Herr Berghof hesitated again and shot a quick glance over his shoulder toward the closed door behind him. But Rowland had risen and now stood beside it."You say the suit-case was empty?" repeated Rowland sternly.Berghof swallowed uneasily."Except for one or two articles of apparel--yes.""Then where did the other bag come from?" asked Rowland suddenly.Berghof's little eyes squinted rapidly and he moistened his lips nervously."The other one?""The one in which the money was removed?""I--I don't understand.""Follow me closely, Herr Berghof. You have said that Fräulein Korasov carried her suit-case to her room. Were there servants to perform that service?""Yes.""Fräulein Korasov had the money in that suit-case. Herr Hochwald knew that she had taken it, or he would not have gone to her room at night with you and forced the door. She did take it. But who helped her?""I'm sure I----""Are there bells in the bed-rooms?""Yes, but----""Where do they ring?""Er--in the office. It is an English system----""Were there any calls between eleven and half-past twelve?"Rowland was shooting his questions at the bewildered clerk like thunderbolts, and the man seemed to have grown more and more anxious."Calls? I dropped into a doze in my chair, as I have said. I cannot----""Think----!""Yes, a call or two--but I was half asleep----""A call--who answered it?"Berghof rubbed his head with unsteady fingers but replied with reluctance."Yes. There was a call.""Did you answer it?""No. It is the duty of the valet or night porter.""Did the night porter go?""I--I presume so.""The night porter! What is his name?"Herr Berghof now seemed truly alarmed and for a moment refused to reply."What is his name?" thundered Rowland."Drelich!" said Berghof sullenly."Is he on duty now?""No.""Can you find him?""No.""You shall try. I will go with you. He is the man who has taken the money."Liederman and Senf who had followed the rapid deductions of the American with astonishment, rose eagerly and Zoya Rochal laughed her admiration."You are right," said Senf."It is worth trying," muttered Liederman."There is no time to be lost," said Rowland quickly. And then to Senf, "Have your men been sent to trace the cab?""No, Herr Rowland--since the money was the most important----"Rowland reached down into his pocket, pulled forth the talisman of Nemi and crashed it down upon the table."If there's any virtue in this--if Nemi is anything but an empty word--if its leader is your master as well as your slave, then do as I command," he said sternly.Herr Senf gazed at the coin and then looked up at the dominating figure before him."What more can I do----""Find me the man who drove that cab," said Rowland. "And you, Herr Liederman--give me money. I need it."Max Liederman glanced at Zoya Rochal, then at Rowland, and without a word obeyed."I will go with you, Herr Rowland," said Zoya Rochal decisively.But Rowland was already out of the door, his hand on Herr Berghof's arm.Georg Senf ran his fingers through his long hair and looked at Liederman as Rowland went out."If we have longed for a leader, Herr Liederman, the God of Democracy has sent us one. Some of his fire has got into my ancient bones. I will follow and obey."Liederman grunted and glanced at the door through which Zoya Rochal had departed."He is keen," he muttered grudgingly."Moreover, his judgment is excellent. Our case falls without Fräulein Korasov. We must find her. I myself will go to the cab stand in the Maximilian Strasse. Call Herr Hoffner if you please and I will give him instructions."In the meanwhile Rowland and Zoya Rochal with Herr Berghof found a cab. The Swiss, at first sullen and inclined to balk Rowland's plans, was speedily brought into submission by the American's determined attitude and the exhibition of an automatic, the mere sight of which made him become more obliging and cheerful. And they found the lodgings of the porter Drelich at last, and Drelich himself quite drunk upon his bed in his room. But he became more sober and quite alarmed when the purpose of the visit was disclosed to him. He was a man of sixty, servile of manner but at first furtive and obstinate, giving evasive replies. But Zoya Rochal, who was resourceful, informed him that she was an agent of the Government and the man collapsed."Against my better judgment, I did it, Fräulein," he stammered. "Money is not made so easily nowadays.""Fräulein Korasov gave you money?" asked Rowland eagerly."Five hundred marks. I give it to you. Here it is," and with trembling hands he brought it forth from a greasy note book in his pocket."Tell us what you did and you may keep this money," said Rowland quickly.Drelich straightened hopefully and looked from one to the other."I did this thing in ignorance. How could I know that the Fräulein was working against the interests of the Fatherland?""Speak--what happened?" ordered Rowland."I was called to the office by Herr Berghof to reply to a call upon the indicator. He will tell you that. I noted the number and went to room Number two twenty-one. The Fräulein within looked out at me and I could see that she was very much disturbed. Then she called me within the room and shut the door behind me. As the lock caught I too was startled for I could not know what was to happen. She produced from the pocket of her coat this note which she held up that I might look. 'I want a suit-case or a bag of the size of this one,' said she. 'Bring it here at once and obey my further instructions and I will give you the money.' I remembered that there were some old suit-cases in the porter's room--long unclaimed and it did not take me more than a few minutes to unlock one of them with my keys, to empty it and return to room Number two twenty-one. I am sure that I have done nothing which could put me under suspicion of having done other than a service to a guest of the hotel.""Go on," urged Zoya, as the man paused."The Fräulein took the suit-case into the bath room and in a moment brought it forth and handed it to me. It was very heavy but that was none of my business.""What did you do with it?""My instructions were to take it to the Haupt Bahnhof and leave it in the check-room, returning with the check which I was to give to her, provided I had an opportunity to hand it to her unobserved. So I told Herr Berghof that I was taking a bag to the station and carried it there.""Ah! You told Herr Berghof that and when you returned you gave her the ticket?" asked Rowland excitedly."There was no chance. When I returned to the Hotel and went up the servants' stairs to the second floor I heard a loud commotion in the corridor and peering out saw Herr Berghof and another gentleman standing before the door of the Fräulein, knocking and shouting. Then I knew that it was best for me to remain silent. So I went to Herr Berghof reporting that I was sick and went out of the hotel and--then I think that I drank more than was good for me--for I have slept until just now when you awakened me.""Did anyone come to your room while you slept?""How should I know? No one comes here.""No one could have taken the ticket for the bag?"The man looked bewildered."I don't know----""The ticket--the check for the bag," shouted Zoya, mad with excitement."It is here----" he said. And fingering stupidly in his waistcoat pocket Drelich produced an oblong slip of card board."The Haupt Bahnhof," cried Rowland. "Come----"And dragging the unfortunate Drelich by the arm before he had a chance even to take up his cap, Rowland turned toward where Herr Berghof had stood beside the door.The man had disappeared.A blank look came into Rowland's face, followed by a sudden frown, as he cursed himself for his stupidity in not keeping better watch. But there was no time to spare and pushing Drelich before him into the waiting cab in a moment he and Zoya Rochal were driving post haste to the Railway station."Was the bag locked?" asked Zoya eagerly."I don't know.""We shall find it," muttered Rowland between set teeth."Monsieur Rowland!" said Zoya, smiling at him joyously, "you are quite the most wonderful man in all the world. Accept my congratulations.""Wait----" said Rowland shortly.As they drove up to the station Rowland leaped out and still holding Drelich by the arm hurried toward the parcel room, Zoya Rochal breathlessly following.At the window, his heart leaping with suspense, Rowland presented the ticket to the baggage agent, who with maddening deliberation moved slowly along an aisle, whistling and peering to right and left. Zoya, her hand trembling on Rowland's arm, watched the leisurely movements of the official, like Rowland a prey to maddening incertitude. They saw the man go down the aisle looking at bag after bag, finally picking out a bright yellow suit case, bringing it forth and laying it upon the counter.Rowland glanced at Drelich who was staring at the new bag stupidly. But compelled by Rowland's gaze he frowned and whispered,"It is not the bag----""It's not the bag!" repeated Rowland. "There's some mistake here."The official scratched his head and frowned."That is strange. It is impossible that our checking system should err.""But ithaserred," roared Rowland. "It was this man himself who brought the bag here--this office which gave him the ticket. Is it not so?" to Drelich."That is true. A black bag, old, plastered with labels----""We never make mistakes," broke in the official with rising anger. "Our records show that this is your bag. You must take it."Rowland could have laughed in the man's face, but instead he raised his voice again, while the fingers of Zoya Rochal closed upon his arm and he realized that a crowd was gathering."Will you not let this man look and see if he can discover my property?" he asked more quietly."Verboten," said the official shortly, and turning on his heel, walked back to the records of the system which could not err.There seemed to be nothing to do but take the yellow suit-case to the cab and depart. Somewhat bewildered by this ill turn of fortune, which could not be explained Rowland took up the bag dejectedly and was about to lead the way to the door when he felt Zoya Rochal's fingers fiercely clutch his elbow. She stopped, her face blanching, her eyes staring wildly at a tall figure in a military uniform who stood before her.The man was very erect and quite old, his face graven with innumerable fine wrinkles which just now had broken into a cynical smile."My compliments, Madame," said a thin crisp voice. "It is a great pleasure to meet you here, so unexpectedly."Zoya Rochal had recovered herself instantly and forced a laugh."You--Herr General! It is--a great pleasure----""You grow more beautiful, Madame--with every year. A little pale--perhaps--but it becomes you, like the blossoms upon a meadow in June. You are quite well?""Ah, quite, Herr General----""It seemed to me that perhaps you were a little nervous.""It is so long since I have seen you. I thought perhaps that you might be angry at my failure last year----""Angry? I? One cannot expect to succeed always." And then, with a malicious grin, "You are not engaged in any propaganda dangerous to the Fatherland?""Ah. You--you are unkind. Have I not----?""Women are the only uncertain quantity in the world equation," he said slowly, his eyes peering down at her. Then turning to Rowland, he asked quickly, "Your companion is harmless?"Rowland, who had stood uneasily, bag in hand, now found refuge in a smile."Harmless--yes," stammered Zoya. "Herr Leo Knaus--Herr General Graf----""No names, Madame," broke in the tall officer with a smile. "Good-bye--and remember that Argus had a hundred eyes----"And with one keen look which seemed to sweep them both comprehendingly, from top to toe, the Herr General clicked his heels and departed. Zoya Rochal remained as though frozen to the floor, looking after him. Rowland caught her by the arm and moved slowly toward the door."Sardonic old pelican!" he said with a grin. "Would you mind telling me who in the devil----?""The devil himself," she broke in, with a stifled voice. "Graf von Stromberg!"CHAPTER XIVTHE CLUEThe shock of Madame Rochal's announcement took Rowland's breath away. If they had needed any explanation of the disappearance of the black bag, here surely was one which would have satisfied the most exacting. Von Stromberg--head of the Prussian secret service--the most hated, the most feared man in all Europe!The jig was up. Rowland shrugged, making up his mind to bluff it out to the end, and so with his hand on Zoya's nerveless arm, walked with an appearance of great carelessness toward the door of the station, beyond which their cab was awaiting them. An official stood near the door and a soldier nearby but when Rowland reached the man, he merely preened at his mustache and smiled at Zoya. They reached the door. Still no arrest. The thing was interesting. What was the game? In the doorway Rowland stopped, put down the bag and in spite of the whispers of Zoya Rochal deliberately faced the door while he lighted a cigarette. The official had turned his back. The soldier had walked away.He was frankly puzzled. It hadn't needed a great deal of imagination on Rowland's part to convince him that if Herr General von Stromberg had been instrumental in the theft of the bag, there was very little time left to Rowland in which to say his prayers. By all the rules of the game, he should already have been arrested, inside of twenty minutes he should be in a prison and tomorrow morning he should be shot. But here he was free, carrying the odious yellow suit-case and getting into a cab, under the very eyes of the very person who had most to lose by his liberty. Had Efficiency slipped a cog? Or was there a motive behind this astonishing leniency? Or--still more surprising--was von Stromberg as innocent as he and Zoya as to the whereabouts of the bag of the Bayrischer Hof? Indeed he was almost ready to believe so.He turned again at the door of the cab and slowly gave directions to drive to the house of Georg Senf and then, while the pallid Zoya beseeched him frantically to hurry, he got into the cab and sank beside her.If von Stromberg was the man who had found the money why, with all the authority he possessed, had he not arrested Drelich, Berghof, Liederman, Zoya Rochal and Rowland, put them in prison and discussed the matter afterwards? What was the meaning of this extraordinary consideration? Was it due to the nature of the business in hand,--a desire to keep secret the dark business of the theft of the funds of Nemi which would antagonize the small army of Socialists in Munich who were growing in power in the message they were sending across the breadth of the nation? Or was von Stromberg waiting until all the cards should be in his own hand, when he would play them to win?Indeed, if the millions of bank-notes were already in his possession, it seemed that von Stromberg had already won and could afford to laugh at Herr Senf and all his followers. And yet if this man of mystery and power already knew so much why had not Rowland already been imprisoned as an alien enemy and a spy?To this mental question there were two answers--the first the obvious one that Gregory Hochwald had not believed that Rowland, the escaped prisoner from a German camp, would dare to risk his life again following the fortunes of Nemi into the heart of the enemy's country, and that von Stromberg had accepted this opinion; the second, that General von Stromberg had just descended from his train from Berlin and knew nothing about him. The first answer was plausible but it didn't satisfy. The second satisfied but it wasn't plausible. For the old demon had surely acted the omniscient with his keen eyes and sardonic smile, frightening poor Zoya half to death. And yet it was just possible--. D---- the fellow! He couldn't know everything. Rowland was plucking up his spirits admirably. At least he hadn't been arrested yet.Poor Zoya seemed for the moment bereft of all spirit and initiative and leaned back in the cab, frowning out of the window, her arms folded, a very thunder-cloud of vexation."We have lost," she said at last, in despair."It seems so," said Rowland with a smile, lighting another cigarette. "And yet there remain several matters which I do not understand.""That man! There will be much more that you do not understand if you have to deal with him. He is uncanny--in league with the devil himself.""Perhaps. I can well believe it."As the thought came to him, Rowland glanced suddenly over his shoulder out of the rear window."Ah, I thought so. It's not von Stromberg, Zoya. It's Hochwald! We are being followed. Two men on bicycles."She was too well trained to look around but seemed no happier because of the discovery."There's no use losing one's nerve," said Rowland cheerfully. "In fact, I'm growing happier every minute."Madame Rochal's amazement was painted in her face.He shrugged. "Because if General von Stromberg had succeeded in getting the money, he would have arrested us both in the Haupt Bahnhof.""You mean that----""That someone else has taken it. Precisely.""Hochwald?""Perhaps. I don't know. But, as we say in my country, 'I'm from Missouri, you've got to show me.' And if Herr Senf is the man I think he is, I'm going to proceed on that theory."The workings of Philip Rowland's brain, it seemed, had been a mystery to her from the first, when she had thought him such easy fish for her net and she looked at him now with a new interest as though some more brilliant facet of his personality had suddenly been revealed to her. She threw her hands impulsively over his own and drew closer to him."You, at least,mon brave--are a man!" she said."Listen, Zoya," he put in quickly. "This is no time for fooling. It's going to be a squad and a stone wall for me, if things don't break right. You've got to do what I tell you. I've got a lot to do between now and night and I can work better alone. I'm going to give those blighters back there the slip. You're to go on to the Russischer Hof, take the yellow bag, and wait. Understand?"She nodded, pressed his hand, sighed and sank back in her seat.He leaned forward, gave some orders to the driver and then as they turned a corner where the traffic was thick, he opened the door quickly, jumped out and lost himself in the throng upon the sidewalk. As the cab went up the street he had the satisfaction of seeing the men upon bicycles pass him by in their vain quest and with a smile turned the nearby corner and hurried in the direction of the house of Georg Senf, which was upon the other side of the river."D---- the woman!" Rowland was muttering. "I've got other business."What mattered the millions of Nemi if he couldn't find Tanya? He shut his lips and increased his stride, tortured by the maddening uncertainty as to her whereabouts. A serious matter, Hochwald had called it. It would prove a serious matter for him, if they ever met on anything like equal terms. And yet if it was von Stromberg who was opposed to him, what was the chance of his finding Tanya in this city of more than half a million people? But if Nemi meant anything, there was a power here that might be more than a match for this subtle Prussian General. What was he here for unless to seize the millions of Nemi? But he hadn't seized them yet. Rowland's immunity from arrest was the pledge of it. Then who had them--who had taken the black bag? Was Hochwald playing some deep game of his own in defiance of the dangerous Prussian? And if he had taken the black bag why had he ordered these men to follow his cab instead of arresting him at once? Rowland had now reached the point of believing that Hochwald didn't know where the black bag was. This new hope was based on other premises than his inherent optimism. There were several missing links in the stories of Drelich and Herr Berghof. Each by itself was clear, but taken together, there was food for thought. He hadn't liked Herr Berghof. The fellow had a shifting eye. He had come to testify because not to do so would have made him an object of suspicion. Rowland had watched him closely and had noted the growing hesitancy in his manner as the American had probed deeper into the problem. Why had he suddenly fled? Did he know that there would be no money in the bag to be redeemed at the Haupt Bahnhof? In this case he was an agent of Gregory Hochwald or Baron von Stromberg. Or had he fled because he thought that there would be no bag to redeem? And why, if an agent of Hochwald, should he show such inquietude? And why, on the other hand, disappear suddenly on the eve of a recovery which would redound much to his credit with a probability of substantial reward? Berghof hadn't rung true somehow.As he strode rapidly over the bridge, dismissing the elusive bag and thinking of Tanya, he made a resolve to put the authority of Nemi to the test. He had taken this greatness because it had been thrust upon him, in a spirit half of amusement, half of adventure, because Tanya had demanded it of him. But the joke seemed to be on him now. These Bavarians were serious, sober and deeply in earnest and if theverbotensigns didn't frighten them before they started something, there was a promise of big doings in Munich before many hours passed. He was It, the grand mogul, and great things were expected of him. He would try not to disappoint them. If he didn't find Tanya and the money it wouldn't be long before the prettiest little revolution this prince-ridden country had ever seen would be brewing right here, where brewing was the leading industry. He would brew them one and if it ever got properly started, it would reach to Potsdam.At the house of the Socialist leader, Rowland gained a new sense of his power. For during his absence the heads of many of the different labor organizations of Munich had called to offer him their fealty and encouragement. And to focus his attention quite definitely upon the meeting tonight, Senf showed him a message that had been received from Herr Hochwald a moment before his arrival, announcing that gentleman's intention to be present with the Central Committee at which he expected to bring up matters of grave importance."They're going to test our strength," said Senf quite calmly, "and we're going to let them. It will be a fight for our existence.""If they'll only forget theverbotensigns," said Rowland absently--for he was thinking of Tanya."I beg pardon," asked Senf politely."I was thinking of another matter. How shall you succeed against Hochwald while he holds your most important witness? They will believe that Fräulein Korasov has taken this money unless she is there to accuse her jailer. I must find her, Herr Senf. And you must help me--before tonight.""Ah," said Senf with a sudden access of interest, and told Rowland of a report that had come to him a short while before. The cabman who had driven the Fräulein and Herr Hochwald away from the Bayrischer Hof had with some difficulty been found. He had driven them to the garage of the Bureau of State Railroads and the pair had departed in an automobile. The official at the garage, evidently acting under instructions, refused to talk, but Senf's agent had been lucky, for a mechanician in the garage was a political follower of Max Liederman's and a member of the Order of Nemi, and had heard quite accidentally that the automobile had gone to a villa upon the banks of the Lake of Starnberg.Rowland's eyes kindled. It was high time that fortune aided him. Starnberg he found was less than twenty miles away and could be reached by railroad in three-quarters of an hour. He sent for and questioned the man who had brought the information, but could elicit nothing more, for the mechanician had told all that he knew and there was no way of finding the precise location of the villa without arousing the suspicion of the official and this might be fatal to any plans to effect a search.When the man had gone, Rowland looked at the clock on the mantel. It was four o'clock."Herr Senf," he said with a smile, "you have done wonders. I could not have asked more of you. I must move now in search of the Fräulein and move quickly. I'm going to Starnberg at once.""You! But, Herr Rowland--the committee! We meet tonight. I had counted upon you to speak to them----""I shall try to come back in time--I shall try," he muttered, with a wave of his hand. "But you see how it is--without her----""We must do what we can.""Are there members of the Order of Nemi at Starnberg?" he asked quietly."Yes, a few. Herr Benz----""You must send a wire to him at once to expect me. I leave on the first train.""Three-quarters of an hour. I will do as you say. But you will return?""Yes----"Senf wrote a message and gave it to a man who was waiting outside the door."To Herr Weiss--in the code. A handkerchief--a red handkerchief in his left hand--you understand?"The matter of a disguise was imperative and in a few moments in the blouse and cap of a workman Rowland stood in the door shaking the old man by the hand."One thing more, Herr Senf. Herr Berghof must be found at once, and hidden until my return.""Herr Berghof! He should come willingly enough."Rowland smiled."I'm afraid not. He has taken fright.""But why?""I don't know. If he is honest you should find him at the Bayrischer Hof. If he is merely frightened the matter may be more difficult. But if he knows more than he has told us he is already on his way to the Swiss border----""You suspect him----""I suspect everyone. He says that he was asleep. But Drelich avers that he told Berghof he had carried a suit-case to the Haupt Bahnhof. Berghof knew that and he knew also what the suit-case contained--money--much money.""True," cried Senf excitedly. "But how could he have redeemed the bag without the ticket in Drelich's pocket?""He couldn't. But he could have gone to the lodgings of Drelich and taken it. The porter was drunk.""And the ticket Drelich gave you?"Rowland grinned. "Would there not be other baggage checks in the office of the Bayrischer Hof? The owner of the bag may be hunting it now. Find the owner of that bag, Herr Senf, and we will know who made the substitution.""Donnerwetter!" cried Senf. "It is quite possible. But if we have learned this much what is to have prevented Herr Hochwald from learning it also?""Nothing, unless----""Unless what, Herr Rowland?""Unless Herr Berghof has managed to elude him."Senf scowled at the opposite wall. "We shall see about this. Go, Herr Rowland, you may leave this matter quite safely in my hands. I will bring Herr Berghof here and crush the truth from him with my bare hands."Rowland laughed at the old man's enthusiasm. "Yes. But if you don't find him in Munich a wire to Shestov or Barthou might not be inadvisable.""You think----?""I think nothing," said Rowland. "I'm tired of thinking. But I'm the best little guesser in Munich. And now I must be off."Sending Liederman to Zoya Rochal and the Russischer Hof to search the yellow bag and if possible find its owner, Rowland went at once to the Haupt Bahnhof and took a train for Starnberg. He had no definite plan. But what he had already seen of George Senf's influence and following gave him new courage. If Tanya were still at the villa to which she had been taken, he would find some way to reach her.In the train many plans came into his mind. He now knew that the man he was to meet here and if necessary others who did his bidding would be absolutely at his orders, and the sense of the power that he possessed made him bold. It might be difficult to find the villa to which Tanya had been taken, for Starnberg was a town of several thousand inhabitants. But the villas, he had been told, were strung along the wooded slopes of the lake, each in its spacious grounds, and Gustav Benz would know the names and occupants of all the regular summer residents. It would perhaps not be difficult, once he found where Tanya was, to approach the place with five or six men and accomplish by force what might be difficult alone. But there was a strong argument against a fight, which might bring in the police and end in publicity if not disaster. The subtler plan appealed to him more. Hochwald could hardly suspect the good fortune that had enabled Rowland to discover the whereabouts of the prisoner, and if not aroused before Rowland's plans matured, would probably permit some carelessness of Tanya's jailers which would open the door to her escape. Rowland meant to move slowly until he was sure of his opportunity, then acting quickly with such means as presented.It was half-past five o'clock when he descended from the train, with an old bag of Senf's in his right hand, in the guise of a Munich workman off for a few days' holiday. In his left hand he carried a cheap red handkerchief, with which as he reached the platform he wiped his brow. He waited in a moment of apparent indecision when a man at the door of the station stepped forward. He had a handkerchief in his left hand. Rowland stopped before him and the man extended his hand."You come from Herr Senf?" he asked."From Senf, yes. You are Herr Benz?""Yes," replied the other. "Come."
CHAPTER XIII
A SCENT
George Senf was leonine. Aroused suddenly from his bed, the disorder of his long white hair and beard gave him a singularly wild and ferocious aspect. But he got out a long-stemmed pipe and after lighting it, settled down with a steady eye to listen to the story that Liederman and Rowland told him. He heard them through to the end, putting in keen questions or incisive remarks here and there which did much to reassure Rowland that their case was in capable hands. This was a leader of men, a thinker and a man of action, and his comprehension of all aspects of the situation and the definite manner of his decisions, left no room to doubt that he believed a crisis to be impending between the forces he represented and the powers of the government which stood behind Khodkine. When Liederman and Rowland had finished he sat for a long while on his bed smoking, his brows frowning, staring at the opposite wall. At last he waved them away.
"Go," he said shortly. "You will need your sleep. My work begins now—at once. Tomorrow we will have a report from Fraulein Korasov. We need her. The meeting of the Committee is tomorrow night. Come here when you have slept and we will plan further. Good night."
And so the two men returned to the Russischer Hof and found the sleep of which they were both much in need. But it was with some mental reservations that Rowland went to bed, for he had vowed that until Tanya was found he would never rest in peace. He had seen something of the double nature of this Gregory Hochwald, and the possible dangers to which she might be subjected filled him constantly with vague alarms. But he realized that he must rest to be effective upon the morrow. If his conscience troubled him, he had no chance to be aware of it, for he was sound asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
Liederman was hammering upon the door of the adjoining room which he occupied before Rowland awoke and sat up in his bed, blinking at the light of broad day, and after a hurried bath and breakfast they called upon Zoya Rochal and hastened to the house of Georg Senf.
They found the Socialist leader in his bedroom, which was blue with the tobacco smoke of a secret conference of several men, three of them leaders, as Rowland afterward discovered, in labor organizations allied to the Socialist-Democratic and Socialist-Revolutionary parties. As the new comers entered there was a silence except for the words of greeting of Georg Senf and they all rose and made place. One of them wore a workman's blouse, and the others were shabbily dressed but in all three Rowland noted the same characteristics--the broad brows of intelligence, the firm lips of resolution, the clear penetrating gaze of men accustomed to think for themselves.
"This is Herr Rowland," said Georg Senf briefly, "the new President of the Order of Nemi, who has come from Switzerland on this sudden mission."
The men bowed and shook the hand of the American gravely.
"You will not find Munich lacking in ardor, Herr Rowland. Our followers are many and we are strong," said one, named Conrad Weiss, who was chief telegrapher of the Munich Post Office.
"You will need to be strong," said Rowland, "for there is every sign that a test of your power is coming soon."
"We are ready for it, Herr Rowland," rumbled the deep bass of Herr Hoffner, who wore the blouse, "and the people of Bavaria are behind us. They are sick--war weary. And the time has come."
"Have you arms--ammunition?" asked Rowland pointedly.
The question seemed to have probed deep below the surface, for no one replied at once. And then spoke Herr Yaeger, a smallish man with long hair and the dark eyes of a dreamer.
"Arms--ammunition. Yes, perhaps--here and there. But arms areverboten. It is necessary that we move with caution. Nor do we wish to win with arms or ammunition, Herr Rowland. Stronger weapons,--poverty, hunger, the rights of one man as against another. They will triumph in the end."
Rowland assumed an air of dignity he was far from feeling, for deep in his heart he realized as these men did not that strong as their organization was, or firm its affiliations, the time would be long in coming for any nation which so feared theverbotensign. He was sorry for them, but he dared not tell them so. He had that maddening inclination to laugh which came to him sometimes upon the most sober occasions, but he bowed his head deeply, saying nothing, which as every one knows--is the part of wisdom.
In this he added to the respect with which they held his office and when Georg Senf drew the meeting to a close, offered him all the help that was in their power to find the money that had been taken.
"That is well," finished Senf, "you will carry out your instructions. You, Herr Weiss, to the telegraph office and summon all leaders for tonight by the harmless code of initials. The meeting is at ten. So lose no time. You, Herr Yaeger, to your factory. You, Herr Hoffner, will keep in readiness for a further call. Herr Berghof will please remain."
Now for the first time Rowland noted a figure in the corner of the room, who rose as the others went out and came forward at a sign from Herr Senf and was presented to the new arrivals.
Georg Senf, relighting his long-stemmed pipe, paced the floor before the fire place.
"I have been busy, my friends, while you have slept," he said. "This matter of the money brooks no delay. In ten minutes after you left this house last night I had made my plans. Our comrades live all about me here and by daylight our different leaders had been notified. By breakfast time thousands of members of our organizations were combing the city in all directions. Every hotel, every pension--An hour ago we met with some success----"
"You've found her----?" broke in Rowland eagerly.
"Only to lose her again." As Rowland sprang up Senf raised his hand. "One moment. It was through no fault of our own--or of Herr Berghof's here, who could not of course have known that Fräulein Korasov's interests and mine were identical."
Herr Berghof, a thin, ferret-like person, smiled and squinted as Rowland glared at him.
"You saw her, Herr Berghof----?"
But Georg Senf broke in again with maddening, methodical Teuton insistence.
"All things in order, Herr Rowland," he said calmly. "A little patience and you shall know all. Herr Berghof is a Social Democrat, but not a member of the Order of Nemi. He has been brought here by Herr Weiss a while ago, somewhat against his will, but he has replied to our questions, upon the condition that the matter is kept secret! Will you relate what happened last night, Herr Berghof?"
The little man cleared his throat, squinted and nodded politely.
"I am a stranger in Munich, a Swiss, from Basle, but I have much interest in the Socialist cause. Democracy is very near my heart and if I can help----"
He glanced at Rowland, who had risen, his patience nearly exhausted.
"You will please proceed directly to the matter in hand," said Senf placidly. "Fräulein Korasov came to the Bayrischer Hof last night----?"
Zoya Rochal shot a triumphant glance at Rowland but his gaze was fixed on Berghof.
"Yes, Herr Senf," the man replied, "I am connected with the management of the hotel. At about eleven, with a gentleman who called himself Herr Hochwald----"
"Hochwald!" muttered Rowland in surprise.
"That was the name--the name also given by the gentleman awaiting him in the south drawing room--who said he was expecting his arrival."
"Ah, I see."
"Fräulein Korasov was taken at once to a room, number two hundred and twenty-one, upon the second floor. She carried a large suit-case. I myself conducted Herr Hochwald to the south drawing room where a visitor was awaiting him. They sat conversing at once in a low tone of voice. As I was not wanted I gave Herr Hochwald the key to his room which was upon the third floor of the hotel, at some distance from that occupied by Fräulein Korasov."
"I see. And then?"
"And then? Nothing. I went to sleep. I was very tired. You must understand, Herr Senf, we are very lacking in service at the hotel and upon the day before I had been on duty----"
"Proceed, Herr Berghof," growled Liederman. "At what time did you see Herr Hochwald again?"
"Oh, yes. It must, have been at least an hour or more later. Herr Hochwald, accompanied by Herr Förster, the man who had met him in the south drawing room, came running down the stairs and awoke me, swearing in a manner such as I have thought was only practiced by officers in the army, and demanding to be let at once into room number two hundred and twenty-one. The proceeding was most unusual, especially as Herr Hochwald had been so particular in ordering that Fräulein Korasov was not to be disturbed by anyone. They had knocked upon her door, they said, but had not been able to get a reply and feared that something had happened to the lady. So I procured my ring of pass keys, and followed them up the stairs. The matter was delicate and one which might have involved me in much difficulty with the proprietor of the hotel, but when I hesitated Herr Hochwald raved and swore again, knocking so that others nearby might easily have been awakened, and then, thinking that perhaps something might really have happened to the Fräulein, I found the proper key and opened the door."
The clerk paused to get his breath and Liederman swore softly.
"The Fräulein was sitting upon the edge of the bed, fully dressed," he went on, "as though aroused from a sleep of utter exhaustion. But she gained her dignity and self-possession almost at once and quite naturally, demanded the meaning of the intrusion."
"'The suit-case,' cried Herr Hochwald. 'You have the suit-case here?'"
"Fräulein Korasov looked a little bewildered. 'The suitcase? Yes, I have my suit-case here. But what----?'"
"At that moment Herr Förster espied the bag of Fraulein Korasov upon a table and running across the room fell upon it eagerly, and opened it. There was nothing in it but a few pieces of linen. And Hochwald let forth another of his mad cries."
"'The money,' he said. 'What have you done with the money?'"
"The Fräulein had now risen and stood, very pale and angry."
"'I don't understand you,' she said quietly. 'The money? What should I know about the money?'"
"Herr Hochwald stood a moment, his face working, trying to compose himself. And then turning to the officer who stood uncertainly, 'Search the room,' he ordered, 'everywhere. It must be here.'"
"Fräulein Korasov stood immovable. 'It is a pity, Herr Hochwald,' she said coolly, 'that you have neither honor nor decency.'"
"'What have you done with it?' he went on, trying to keep his composure, 'tell me now, and all may yet be well.'"
"'I know nothing,' she replied."
"Herr Hochwald stared at her a moment and then, as though to himself. 'This is a grave matter. We shall take further steps.' And seeing me standing beside the door, he seemed suddenly to realize that I had seen and heard all that had happened, for he frowned and ordered me from the room."
"'Go,' he muttered, 'and order a cab--at once. Fräulein Korasov, you will descend with me. Herr Förster, you will stay, continue the search and question the servants. You have full authority. It is understood?'"
"'At your orders, Herr Hochwald,' said the other."
"That was all I heard, for I went below and ordered the cab, into which Herr Hochwald and the Fräulein entered and were driven away."
The man paused and there was a moment of silence, when a storm of questions assailed him.
"The directions to the driver," cried Liederman.
"Herr Förster found nothing?" asked Zoya Rochal.
"The servants were questioned?" demanded Senf.
"I did not hear the directions to the driver," said Berghof, with a shifting glance at Rowland. "The man who conducted the Fräulein to her room could shed no light upon the matter."
"But you. Did Herr Förster not question you?" asked Rowland keenly.
"Yes. He questioned this morning, and I answered him. It is not healthy not to answer the questions of one in such authority."
There was another silence, baffled it seemed on the part of the questioners. Herr Berghof took up his hat and rose. Rowland no longer smiled. Liederman rocked to and fro from one foot to the other by the mantel-shelf. Zoya Rochal nervously lighted a cigarette.
"One moment, Herr Berghof," said Rowland, whose mind had been tracing the interstices of the puzzle in his own American way. "You say that this Herr Förster has questioned the servants of the hotel?"
Herr Berghof hesitated a moment.
"One or two only. What was the use? The Fräulein had been there but an hour or more."
"But you seem to forget that in that hour much happened," said Rowland. "If that money was taken from the valise of Herr Hochwald, it was taken before he reached the hotel, not afterward. If Fräulein Korasov took it--ah----" He paused a moment, then went on quickly, "She had a valise, you say. Empty?"
Herr Berghof hesitated again and shot a quick glance over his shoulder toward the closed door behind him. But Rowland had risen and now stood beside it.
"You say the suit-case was empty?" repeated Rowland sternly.
Berghof swallowed uneasily.
"Except for one or two articles of apparel--yes."
"Then where did the other bag come from?" asked Rowland suddenly.
Berghof's little eyes squinted rapidly and he moistened his lips nervously.
"The other one?"
"The one in which the money was removed?"
"I--I don't understand."
"Follow me closely, Herr Berghof. You have said that Fräulein Korasov carried her suit-case to her room. Were there servants to perform that service?"
"Yes."
"Fräulein Korasov had the money in that suit-case. Herr Hochwald knew that she had taken it, or he would not have gone to her room at night with you and forced the door. She did take it. But who helped her?"
"I'm sure I----"
"Are there bells in the bed-rooms?"
"Yes, but----"
"Where do they ring?"
"Er--in the office. It is an English system----"
"Were there any calls between eleven and half-past twelve?"
Rowland was shooting his questions at the bewildered clerk like thunderbolts, and the man seemed to have grown more and more anxious.
"Calls? I dropped into a doze in my chair, as I have said. I cannot----"
"Think----!"
"Yes, a call or two--but I was half asleep----"
"A call--who answered it?"
Berghof rubbed his head with unsteady fingers but replied with reluctance.
"Yes. There was a call."
"Did you answer it?"
"No. It is the duty of the valet or night porter."
"Did the night porter go?"
"I--I presume so."
"The night porter! What is his name?"
Herr Berghof now seemed truly alarmed and for a moment refused to reply.
"What is his name?" thundered Rowland.
"Drelich!" said Berghof sullenly.
"Is he on duty now?"
"No."
"Can you find him?"
"No."
"You shall try. I will go with you. He is the man who has taken the money."
Liederman and Senf who had followed the rapid deductions of the American with astonishment, rose eagerly and Zoya Rochal laughed her admiration.
"You are right," said Senf.
"It is worth trying," muttered Liederman.
"There is no time to be lost," said Rowland quickly. And then to Senf, "Have your men been sent to trace the cab?"
"No, Herr Rowland--since the money was the most important----"
Rowland reached down into his pocket, pulled forth the talisman of Nemi and crashed it down upon the table.
"If there's any virtue in this--if Nemi is anything but an empty word--if its leader is your master as well as your slave, then do as I command," he said sternly.
Herr Senf gazed at the coin and then looked up at the dominating figure before him.
"What more can I do----"
"Find me the man who drove that cab," said Rowland. "And you, Herr Liederman--give me money. I need it."
Max Liederman glanced at Zoya Rochal, then at Rowland, and without a word obeyed.
"I will go with you, Herr Rowland," said Zoya Rochal decisively.
But Rowland was already out of the door, his hand on Herr Berghof's arm.
Georg Senf ran his fingers through his long hair and looked at Liederman as Rowland went out.
"If we have longed for a leader, Herr Liederman, the God of Democracy has sent us one. Some of his fire has got into my ancient bones. I will follow and obey."
Liederman grunted and glanced at the door through which Zoya Rochal had departed.
"He is keen," he muttered grudgingly.
"Moreover, his judgment is excellent. Our case falls without Fräulein Korasov. We must find her. I myself will go to the cab stand in the Maximilian Strasse. Call Herr Hoffner if you please and I will give him instructions."
In the meanwhile Rowland and Zoya Rochal with Herr Berghof found a cab. The Swiss, at first sullen and inclined to balk Rowland's plans, was speedily brought into submission by the American's determined attitude and the exhibition of an automatic, the mere sight of which made him become more obliging and cheerful. And they found the lodgings of the porter Drelich at last, and Drelich himself quite drunk upon his bed in his room. But he became more sober and quite alarmed when the purpose of the visit was disclosed to him. He was a man of sixty, servile of manner but at first furtive and obstinate, giving evasive replies. But Zoya Rochal, who was resourceful, informed him that she was an agent of the Government and the man collapsed.
"Against my better judgment, I did it, Fräulein," he stammered. "Money is not made so easily nowadays."
"Fräulein Korasov gave you money?" asked Rowland eagerly.
"Five hundred marks. I give it to you. Here it is," and with trembling hands he brought it forth from a greasy note book in his pocket.
"Tell us what you did and you may keep this money," said Rowland quickly.
Drelich straightened hopefully and looked from one to the other.
"I did this thing in ignorance. How could I know that the Fräulein was working against the interests of the Fatherland?"
"Speak--what happened?" ordered Rowland.
"I was called to the office by Herr Berghof to reply to a call upon the indicator. He will tell you that. I noted the number and went to room Number two twenty-one. The Fräulein within looked out at me and I could see that she was very much disturbed. Then she called me within the room and shut the door behind me. As the lock caught I too was startled for I could not know what was to happen. She produced from the pocket of her coat this note which she held up that I might look. 'I want a suit-case or a bag of the size of this one,' said she. 'Bring it here at once and obey my further instructions and I will give you the money.' I remembered that there were some old suit-cases in the porter's room--long unclaimed and it did not take me more than a few minutes to unlock one of them with my keys, to empty it and return to room Number two twenty-one. I am sure that I have done nothing which could put me under suspicion of having done other than a service to a guest of the hotel."
"Go on," urged Zoya, as the man paused.
"The Fräulein took the suit-case into the bath room and in a moment brought it forth and handed it to me. It was very heavy but that was none of my business."
"What did you do with it?"
"My instructions were to take it to the Haupt Bahnhof and leave it in the check-room, returning with the check which I was to give to her, provided I had an opportunity to hand it to her unobserved. So I told Herr Berghof that I was taking a bag to the station and carried it there."
"Ah! You told Herr Berghof that and when you returned you gave her the ticket?" asked Rowland excitedly.
"There was no chance. When I returned to the Hotel and went up the servants' stairs to the second floor I heard a loud commotion in the corridor and peering out saw Herr Berghof and another gentleman standing before the door of the Fräulein, knocking and shouting. Then I knew that it was best for me to remain silent. So I went to Herr Berghof reporting that I was sick and went out of the hotel and--then I think that I drank more than was good for me--for I have slept until just now when you awakened me."
"Did anyone come to your room while you slept?"
"How should I know? No one comes here."
"No one could have taken the ticket for the bag?"
The man looked bewildered.
"I don't know----"
"The ticket--the check for the bag," shouted Zoya, mad with excitement.
"It is here----" he said. And fingering stupidly in his waistcoat pocket Drelich produced an oblong slip of card board.
"The Haupt Bahnhof," cried Rowland. "Come----"
And dragging the unfortunate Drelich by the arm before he had a chance even to take up his cap, Rowland turned toward where Herr Berghof had stood beside the door.
The man had disappeared.
A blank look came into Rowland's face, followed by a sudden frown, as he cursed himself for his stupidity in not keeping better watch. But there was no time to spare and pushing Drelich before him into the waiting cab in a moment he and Zoya Rochal were driving post haste to the Railway station.
"Was the bag locked?" asked Zoya eagerly.
"I don't know."
"We shall find it," muttered Rowland between set teeth.
"Monsieur Rowland!" said Zoya, smiling at him joyously, "you are quite the most wonderful man in all the world. Accept my congratulations."
"Wait----" said Rowland shortly.
As they drove up to the station Rowland leaped out and still holding Drelich by the arm hurried toward the parcel room, Zoya Rochal breathlessly following.
At the window, his heart leaping with suspense, Rowland presented the ticket to the baggage agent, who with maddening deliberation moved slowly along an aisle, whistling and peering to right and left. Zoya, her hand trembling on Rowland's arm, watched the leisurely movements of the official, like Rowland a prey to maddening incertitude. They saw the man go down the aisle looking at bag after bag, finally picking out a bright yellow suit case, bringing it forth and laying it upon the counter.
Rowland glanced at Drelich who was staring at the new bag stupidly. But compelled by Rowland's gaze he frowned and whispered,
"It is not the bag----"
"It's not the bag!" repeated Rowland. "There's some mistake here."
The official scratched his head and frowned.
"That is strange. It is impossible that our checking system should err."
"But ithaserred," roared Rowland. "It was this man himself who brought the bag here--this office which gave him the ticket. Is it not so?" to Drelich.
"That is true. A black bag, old, plastered with labels----"
"We never make mistakes," broke in the official with rising anger. "Our records show that this is your bag. You must take it."
Rowland could have laughed in the man's face, but instead he raised his voice again, while the fingers of Zoya Rochal closed upon his arm and he realized that a crowd was gathering.
"Will you not let this man look and see if he can discover my property?" he asked more quietly.
"Verboten," said the official shortly, and turning on his heel, walked back to the records of the system which could not err.
There seemed to be nothing to do but take the yellow suit-case to the cab and depart. Somewhat bewildered by this ill turn of fortune, which could not be explained Rowland took up the bag dejectedly and was about to lead the way to the door when he felt Zoya Rochal's fingers fiercely clutch his elbow. She stopped, her face blanching, her eyes staring wildly at a tall figure in a military uniform who stood before her.
The man was very erect and quite old, his face graven with innumerable fine wrinkles which just now had broken into a cynical smile.
"My compliments, Madame," said a thin crisp voice. "It is a great pleasure to meet you here, so unexpectedly."
Zoya Rochal had recovered herself instantly and forced a laugh.
"You--Herr General! It is--a great pleasure----"
"You grow more beautiful, Madame--with every year. A little pale--perhaps--but it becomes you, like the blossoms upon a meadow in June. You are quite well?"
"Ah, quite, Herr General----"
"It seemed to me that perhaps you were a little nervous."
"It is so long since I have seen you. I thought perhaps that you might be angry at my failure last year----"
"Angry? I? One cannot expect to succeed always." And then, with a malicious grin, "You are not engaged in any propaganda dangerous to the Fatherland?"
"Ah. You--you are unkind. Have I not----?"
"Women are the only uncertain quantity in the world equation," he said slowly, his eyes peering down at her. Then turning to Rowland, he asked quickly, "Your companion is harmless?"
Rowland, who had stood uneasily, bag in hand, now found refuge in a smile.
"Harmless--yes," stammered Zoya. "Herr Leo Knaus--Herr General Graf----"
"No names, Madame," broke in the tall officer with a smile. "Good-bye--and remember that Argus had a hundred eyes----"
And with one keen look which seemed to sweep them both comprehendingly, from top to toe, the Herr General clicked his heels and departed. Zoya Rochal remained as though frozen to the floor, looking after him. Rowland caught her by the arm and moved slowly toward the door.
"Sardonic old pelican!" he said with a grin. "Would you mind telling me who in the devil----?"
"The devil himself," she broke in, with a stifled voice. "Graf von Stromberg!"
CHAPTER XIV
THE CLUE
The shock of Madame Rochal's announcement took Rowland's breath away. If they had needed any explanation of the disappearance of the black bag, here surely was one which would have satisfied the most exacting. Von Stromberg--head of the Prussian secret service--the most hated, the most feared man in all Europe!
The jig was up. Rowland shrugged, making up his mind to bluff it out to the end, and so with his hand on Zoya's nerveless arm, walked with an appearance of great carelessness toward the door of the station, beyond which their cab was awaiting them. An official stood near the door and a soldier nearby but when Rowland reached the man, he merely preened at his mustache and smiled at Zoya. They reached the door. Still no arrest. The thing was interesting. What was the game? In the doorway Rowland stopped, put down the bag and in spite of the whispers of Zoya Rochal deliberately faced the door while he lighted a cigarette. The official had turned his back. The soldier had walked away.
He was frankly puzzled. It hadn't needed a great deal of imagination on Rowland's part to convince him that if Herr General von Stromberg had been instrumental in the theft of the bag, there was very little time left to Rowland in which to say his prayers. By all the rules of the game, he should already have been arrested, inside of twenty minutes he should be in a prison and tomorrow morning he should be shot. But here he was free, carrying the odious yellow suit-case and getting into a cab, under the very eyes of the very person who had most to lose by his liberty. Had Efficiency slipped a cog? Or was there a motive behind this astonishing leniency? Or--still more surprising--was von Stromberg as innocent as he and Zoya as to the whereabouts of the bag of the Bayrischer Hof? Indeed he was almost ready to believe so.
He turned again at the door of the cab and slowly gave directions to drive to the house of Georg Senf and then, while the pallid Zoya beseeched him frantically to hurry, he got into the cab and sank beside her.
If von Stromberg was the man who had found the money why, with all the authority he possessed, had he not arrested Drelich, Berghof, Liederman, Zoya Rochal and Rowland, put them in prison and discussed the matter afterwards? What was the meaning of this extraordinary consideration? Was it due to the nature of the business in hand,--a desire to keep secret the dark business of the theft of the funds of Nemi which would antagonize the small army of Socialists in Munich who were growing in power in the message they were sending across the breadth of the nation? Or was von Stromberg waiting until all the cards should be in his own hand, when he would play them to win?
Indeed, if the millions of bank-notes were already in his possession, it seemed that von Stromberg had already won and could afford to laugh at Herr Senf and all his followers. And yet if this man of mystery and power already knew so much why had not Rowland already been imprisoned as an alien enemy and a spy?
To this mental question there were two answers--the first the obvious one that Gregory Hochwald had not believed that Rowland, the escaped prisoner from a German camp, would dare to risk his life again following the fortunes of Nemi into the heart of the enemy's country, and that von Stromberg had accepted this opinion; the second, that General von Stromberg had just descended from his train from Berlin and knew nothing about him. The first answer was plausible but it didn't satisfy. The second satisfied but it wasn't plausible. For the old demon had surely acted the omniscient with his keen eyes and sardonic smile, frightening poor Zoya half to death. And yet it was just possible--. D---- the fellow! He couldn't know everything. Rowland was plucking up his spirits admirably. At least he hadn't been arrested yet.
Poor Zoya seemed for the moment bereft of all spirit and initiative and leaned back in the cab, frowning out of the window, her arms folded, a very thunder-cloud of vexation.
"We have lost," she said at last, in despair.
"It seems so," said Rowland with a smile, lighting another cigarette. "And yet there remain several matters which I do not understand."
"That man! There will be much more that you do not understand if you have to deal with him. He is uncanny--in league with the devil himself."
"Perhaps. I can well believe it."
As the thought came to him, Rowland glanced suddenly over his shoulder out of the rear window.
"Ah, I thought so. It's not von Stromberg, Zoya. It's Hochwald! We are being followed. Two men on bicycles."
She was too well trained to look around but seemed no happier because of the discovery.
"There's no use losing one's nerve," said Rowland cheerfully. "In fact, I'm growing happier every minute."
Madame Rochal's amazement was painted in her face.
He shrugged. "Because if General von Stromberg had succeeded in getting the money, he would have arrested us both in the Haupt Bahnhof."
"You mean that----"
"That someone else has taken it. Precisely."
"Hochwald?"
"Perhaps. I don't know. But, as we say in my country, 'I'm from Missouri, you've got to show me.' And if Herr Senf is the man I think he is, I'm going to proceed on that theory."
The workings of Philip Rowland's brain, it seemed, had been a mystery to her from the first, when she had thought him such easy fish for her net and she looked at him now with a new interest as though some more brilliant facet of his personality had suddenly been revealed to her. She threw her hands impulsively over his own and drew closer to him.
"You, at least,mon brave--are a man!" she said.
"Listen, Zoya," he put in quickly. "This is no time for fooling. It's going to be a squad and a stone wall for me, if things don't break right. You've got to do what I tell you. I've got a lot to do between now and night and I can work better alone. I'm going to give those blighters back there the slip. You're to go on to the Russischer Hof, take the yellow bag, and wait. Understand?"
She nodded, pressed his hand, sighed and sank back in her seat.
He leaned forward, gave some orders to the driver and then as they turned a corner where the traffic was thick, he opened the door quickly, jumped out and lost himself in the throng upon the sidewalk. As the cab went up the street he had the satisfaction of seeing the men upon bicycles pass him by in their vain quest and with a smile turned the nearby corner and hurried in the direction of the house of Georg Senf, which was upon the other side of the river.
"D---- the woman!" Rowland was muttering. "I've got other business."
What mattered the millions of Nemi if he couldn't find Tanya? He shut his lips and increased his stride, tortured by the maddening uncertainty as to her whereabouts. A serious matter, Hochwald had called it. It would prove a serious matter for him, if they ever met on anything like equal terms. And yet if it was von Stromberg who was opposed to him, what was the chance of his finding Tanya in this city of more than half a million people? But if Nemi meant anything, there was a power here that might be more than a match for this subtle Prussian General. What was he here for unless to seize the millions of Nemi? But he hadn't seized them yet. Rowland's immunity from arrest was the pledge of it. Then who had them--who had taken the black bag? Was Hochwald playing some deep game of his own in defiance of the dangerous Prussian? And if he had taken the black bag why had he ordered these men to follow his cab instead of arresting him at once? Rowland had now reached the point of believing that Hochwald didn't know where the black bag was. This new hope was based on other premises than his inherent optimism. There were several missing links in the stories of Drelich and Herr Berghof. Each by itself was clear, but taken together, there was food for thought. He hadn't liked Herr Berghof. The fellow had a shifting eye. He had come to testify because not to do so would have made him an object of suspicion. Rowland had watched him closely and had noted the growing hesitancy in his manner as the American had probed deeper into the problem. Why had he suddenly fled? Did he know that there would be no money in the bag to be redeemed at the Haupt Bahnhof? In this case he was an agent of Gregory Hochwald or Baron von Stromberg. Or had he fled because he thought that there would be no bag to redeem? And why, if an agent of Hochwald, should he show such inquietude? And why, on the other hand, disappear suddenly on the eve of a recovery which would redound much to his credit with a probability of substantial reward? Berghof hadn't rung true somehow.
As he strode rapidly over the bridge, dismissing the elusive bag and thinking of Tanya, he made a resolve to put the authority of Nemi to the test. He had taken this greatness because it had been thrust upon him, in a spirit half of amusement, half of adventure, because Tanya had demanded it of him. But the joke seemed to be on him now. These Bavarians were serious, sober and deeply in earnest and if theverbotensigns didn't frighten them before they started something, there was a promise of big doings in Munich before many hours passed. He was It, the grand mogul, and great things were expected of him. He would try not to disappoint them. If he didn't find Tanya and the money it wouldn't be long before the prettiest little revolution this prince-ridden country had ever seen would be brewing right here, where brewing was the leading industry. He would brew them one and if it ever got properly started, it would reach to Potsdam.
At the house of the Socialist leader, Rowland gained a new sense of his power. For during his absence the heads of many of the different labor organizations of Munich had called to offer him their fealty and encouragement. And to focus his attention quite definitely upon the meeting tonight, Senf showed him a message that had been received from Herr Hochwald a moment before his arrival, announcing that gentleman's intention to be present with the Central Committee at which he expected to bring up matters of grave importance.
"They're going to test our strength," said Senf quite calmly, "and we're going to let them. It will be a fight for our existence."
"If they'll only forget theverbotensigns," said Rowland absently--for he was thinking of Tanya.
"I beg pardon," asked Senf politely.
"I was thinking of another matter. How shall you succeed against Hochwald while he holds your most important witness? They will believe that Fräulein Korasov has taken this money unless she is there to accuse her jailer. I must find her, Herr Senf. And you must help me--before tonight."
"Ah," said Senf with a sudden access of interest, and told Rowland of a report that had come to him a short while before. The cabman who had driven the Fräulein and Herr Hochwald away from the Bayrischer Hof had with some difficulty been found. He had driven them to the garage of the Bureau of State Railroads and the pair had departed in an automobile. The official at the garage, evidently acting under instructions, refused to talk, but Senf's agent had been lucky, for a mechanician in the garage was a political follower of Max Liederman's and a member of the Order of Nemi, and had heard quite accidentally that the automobile had gone to a villa upon the banks of the Lake of Starnberg.
Rowland's eyes kindled. It was high time that fortune aided him. Starnberg he found was less than twenty miles away and could be reached by railroad in three-quarters of an hour. He sent for and questioned the man who had brought the information, but could elicit nothing more, for the mechanician had told all that he knew and there was no way of finding the precise location of the villa without arousing the suspicion of the official and this might be fatal to any plans to effect a search.
When the man had gone, Rowland looked at the clock on the mantel. It was four o'clock.
"Herr Senf," he said with a smile, "you have done wonders. I could not have asked more of you. I must move now in search of the Fräulein and move quickly. I'm going to Starnberg at once."
"You! But, Herr Rowland--the committee! We meet tonight. I had counted upon you to speak to them----"
"I shall try to come back in time--I shall try," he muttered, with a wave of his hand. "But you see how it is--without her----"
"We must do what we can."
"Are there members of the Order of Nemi at Starnberg?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, a few. Herr Benz----"
"You must send a wire to him at once to expect me. I leave on the first train."
"Three-quarters of an hour. I will do as you say. But you will return?"
"Yes----"
Senf wrote a message and gave it to a man who was waiting outside the door.
"To Herr Weiss--in the code. A handkerchief--a red handkerchief in his left hand--you understand?"
The matter of a disguise was imperative and in a few moments in the blouse and cap of a workman Rowland stood in the door shaking the old man by the hand.
"One thing more, Herr Senf. Herr Berghof must be found at once, and hidden until my return."
"Herr Berghof! He should come willingly enough."
Rowland smiled.
"I'm afraid not. He has taken fright."
"But why?"
"I don't know. If he is honest you should find him at the Bayrischer Hof. If he is merely frightened the matter may be more difficult. But if he knows more than he has told us he is already on his way to the Swiss border----"
"You suspect him----"
"I suspect everyone. He says that he was asleep. But Drelich avers that he told Berghof he had carried a suit-case to the Haupt Bahnhof. Berghof knew that and he knew also what the suit-case contained--money--much money."
"True," cried Senf excitedly. "But how could he have redeemed the bag without the ticket in Drelich's pocket?"
"He couldn't. But he could have gone to the lodgings of Drelich and taken it. The porter was drunk."
"And the ticket Drelich gave you?"
Rowland grinned. "Would there not be other baggage checks in the office of the Bayrischer Hof? The owner of the bag may be hunting it now. Find the owner of that bag, Herr Senf, and we will know who made the substitution."
"Donnerwetter!" cried Senf. "It is quite possible. But if we have learned this much what is to have prevented Herr Hochwald from learning it also?"
"Nothing, unless----"
"Unless what, Herr Rowland?"
"Unless Herr Berghof has managed to elude him."
Senf scowled at the opposite wall. "We shall see about this. Go, Herr Rowland, you may leave this matter quite safely in my hands. I will bring Herr Berghof here and crush the truth from him with my bare hands."
Rowland laughed at the old man's enthusiasm. "Yes. But if you don't find him in Munich a wire to Shestov or Barthou might not be inadvisable."
"You think----?"
"I think nothing," said Rowland. "I'm tired of thinking. But I'm the best little guesser in Munich. And now I must be off."
Sending Liederman to Zoya Rochal and the Russischer Hof to search the yellow bag and if possible find its owner, Rowland went at once to the Haupt Bahnhof and took a train for Starnberg. He had no definite plan. But what he had already seen of George Senf's influence and following gave him new courage. If Tanya were still at the villa to which she had been taken, he would find some way to reach her.
In the train many plans came into his mind. He now knew that the man he was to meet here and if necessary others who did his bidding would be absolutely at his orders, and the sense of the power that he possessed made him bold. It might be difficult to find the villa to which Tanya had been taken, for Starnberg was a town of several thousand inhabitants. But the villas, he had been told, were strung along the wooded slopes of the lake, each in its spacious grounds, and Gustav Benz would know the names and occupants of all the regular summer residents. It would perhaps not be difficult, once he found where Tanya was, to approach the place with five or six men and accomplish by force what might be difficult alone. But there was a strong argument against a fight, which might bring in the police and end in publicity if not disaster. The subtler plan appealed to him more. Hochwald could hardly suspect the good fortune that had enabled Rowland to discover the whereabouts of the prisoner, and if not aroused before Rowland's plans matured, would probably permit some carelessness of Tanya's jailers which would open the door to her escape. Rowland meant to move slowly until he was sure of his opportunity, then acting quickly with such means as presented.
It was half-past five o'clock when he descended from the train, with an old bag of Senf's in his right hand, in the guise of a Munich workman off for a few days' holiday. In his left hand he carried a cheap red handkerchief, with which as he reached the platform he wiped his brow. He waited in a moment of apparent indecision when a man at the door of the station stepped forward. He had a handkerchief in his left hand. Rowland stopped before him and the man extended his hand.
"You come from Herr Senf?" he asked.
"From Senf, yes. You are Herr Benz?"
"Yes," replied the other. "Come."