"Luckily Edestone invited me to dine with him tonight before I had a chance to invite him," he said, "but I will persuade him to come here and dine with me."

"So, Mr. Bombiadi," he turned to the proprietor, "I shall want dinner here for four at 8:30. See to it yourself, will you, that my guests are brought through my private entrance, and one especially--you know who--who will be incognito, must not be recognized. Not that there could be any objection to these men dining with me here--a common rich American, who loves to spend his money on princes and things--but by tonight this man Edestone will be watched by at least twenty men from Scotland Yard, and they suspect anyone of being a German spy, be he prince or pauper."

Their conversation was interrupted at this point by the arrival of Smith, who came in very much excited. Sniffling and rubbing his nose with the back of his forefinger, like a nervous cocaine fiend, he broke out agitatedly:

"Mr. Rebener, I'm getting sick of this job. When I undertook to find out for you what was going on at the Little Place in the Country, I was working for Germany as against the world, and anything that I can do for her I am glad and proud to do, but that Hottenroth talks like a d.a.m.n fool. Excuse me, Mr. Rebener, but he don't want to stop at anything. He says that if he pulls off this thing the Emperor, when he gets to London, will make him Duke of Westminster, or something, and six months from now he will appoint me Governor-General of North America. I tell you, Mr. Rebener, that fellow is plumb nutty."

"Pardon me, Mr. Rebener," interposed the proprietor, "it is true that Hottenroth is excitable, but he is faithful to the Fatherland and an humble servant to His Imperial Majesty. He has been in charge of a fixed post in London for fifteen years. He was one of the very first to be sent here, and he was in Paris before that. He would die willingly for the Fatherland, as would I, and if this Schmidt, I mean Smith, thinks there is any sin too great to be committed for the Fatherland, he is not worthy of a place among us, and the sooner we get rid of him the better." And he looked at the unfortunate Smith in a way that showed he was willing to do this at any moment.

But Rebener, who had lived all his life in America, and like Smith did not thoroughly agree with the philosophy of German militarism--before which everything must bow--hurriedly raised his hand.

"Come, come, you are both getting unnecessarily excited. Don't let us try to cross our bridges until we get to them. What did von Hottenroth have to report?"

"It was not very satisfactory, to tell you the truth, Mr. Rebener,"

said Smith; "they searched through all of his things and they found nothing but a drawing of a Zeppelin of our 29-M type, with some slight changes, which Hottenroth said don't amount to anything, and some photographs of Mr. Edestone himself, doing some juggling tricks with heavy dumb-bells and weights, but we learned afterwards from the porter that an expressman had left two large and heavy trunks marked, 'A. M. Black and P. S. Stanton,' at No. 4141 Grosvenor Square East."

"Well what is the report," demanded Bombiadi, "on No. 4141 Grosvenor Square?"

Smith read from a memorandum book: "Lord Lindenberry, who is a widower, lives there with his mother, the Dowager. The old lady is now up at their country place, in Yorkshire, and the Marquis went on to Aldershot last night after having dined with Edestone at Brooks's and dropping him at Claridge's at 12:15 A.M. The house is only partially opened; there are only a few of the old servants there."

"And do you think these trunks contain the instrument which you reported to us from America was always kept in the safe at the Little Place in the Country?" snapped the hotel proprietor.

"I don't know," whined Smith. "Mr. Edestone probably has it with him."

"Well, we must get hold of it before he shows it to Underhill,"

frowned the proprietor, "that is, if it has not been shown already, and in that case we must get hold of Edestone himself."

"Now that is exactly what is troubling me," Smith's voice rose hysterically. "I'm not going to stand for any of that rough stuff, Mr. Rebener. Mr. Edestone and his father have both been mighty good to me, and if anything happens to him I'll blow on the whole lot of you."

"So?" The proprietor's pale fat face was convulsed with a look of hatred and contempt. "Then we are to understand, Smith, that if we find it necessary to do away with Edestone you wish to go first? You dirty little half-breed," he growled in an undertone. "Your mother must have been an English woman."

"Here, here, you two fools!" Rebener broke in with sharp authority, "there is no question of 'doing away' with Edestone, as you call it. What we're after is the invention and not the man himself, and we'll not get it by 'doing away' with him. I am, like Smith here, opposed to murder, even for the Fatherland."

"But it is not murder, Mr. Rebener," interrupted the proprietor, "if thereby we are instrumental in saving thousands of the sons of the Fatherland."

"That would not only not save the sons of the Fatherland, but would put an end to our usefulness, both here in London and in America, especially if Edestone has already turned the whole thing over to England. The very first thing for us to do is to find out how the matter stands. If the Ministry knows nothing, we must work to get him to Berlin, and then even you fire-eaters may safely trust it to the Wilhelmstra.s.se. If it should happen, however, that the British Government has the invention, His Royal Highness tonight will try to get enough out of Edestone to enlighten Berlin, and in that way we shall at least get an even break. That is, always provided that Edestone has not a lot of the completed articles, whatever they may be, at the Little Place in the Country. That would put us in bad again, and it will be up to Count Bernstoff to attend to it from the New York end."

"Of course, Mr. Rebener," said the proprietor, "we can do nothing until we hear from His Royal Highness, but I am satisfied that he will say Edestone must not be allowed to go to Downing Street tomorrow to continue his negotiations, unless in some way we can get hold of this secret tonight."

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'll--!" started Rebener angrily, when he was interrupted by the proprietor, who holding his finger to his lip, said:

"Please, Mr. Rebener, please! Always remember that the service on which we are engaged has no soul and a very long arm." Then dropping into the persuasive and servile tone of the _maitre d'hotel_: "I propose, Mr. Rebener, that you allow me to send you up a nice little lunch, some melon, say, a _salmon mayonnaise_ or a _filet du sole au vin blanc_ and a _noisette d'agneau_ and a nice little sweet, and you must try a bottle of our Steinberger Auslese '84.

"And Smith," he turned to the humbler agent, "you had better get in touch with 4782, who is reporting to His Royal Highness every hour.

His last message was that Edestone is still with Underhill, so you get down to the Admiralty and report to me here as often as you can.

Edestone will probably lunch quietly alone somewhere, as I know that all of his friends are at the front, but don't lose him until you turn him over to Mr. Rebener tonight at 8 o'clock." His eyes narrowed as they followed the skulking figure of the architect out of the room.

"That fellow needs watching," he muttered to Rebener. "He has lost his nerve. He is not a true German anyhow. But if he makes a false step, 4782 knows what to do and you can depend upon him to do it. We do not know who he is, but he is a gentleman, if not a n.o.bleman, and he will kill or die for his Emperor."

Smith, in the meantime, had gone down the service stairs and out at the rear of the hotel. He was thoughtful, and when he was settled in his taxi, after having directed the chauffeur where to drive, he said to himself:

"They are going to kill him tonight unless they get that machine, or else can fix it so that Rockstone doesn't get it tomorrow, that is if Underhill hasn't got it already. I wish I'd never started this business; I never thought it would go so far, and what do I get out of it? A German decoration which I can't wear in America, and G.o.d knows I don't want to live in Germany, and seventeen dollars a week. I'm not going to stand for it, and that's settled."

Arriving in front of a little restaurant he entered and sat down at a table near a window looking out on Whitehall Place. The proprietor, who was another German, came over to him, and while ostensibly arranging the cloth spoke to him in an undertone in his own language.

"Edestone is still with Underhill," he said. "The taxi driver on the stand opposite, the one who looks as if he were asleep, is 4782. In that way he keeps the head of the line, you see, and when Edestone comes out, if he doesn't take that cab, 4782 can follow him until he alights again, and then he is to telephone His Royal Highness. So you sit here and have lunch, where you can see what is going on."

Then, turning to a group of his regular customers at another table, the jovial host in a loud voice and in perfect English took a violent pro-Ally part in the war discussion that was going on.

CHAPTER VI

A RUSTY OLD CANNON-BALL

Edestone had met the Honorable Herbert Underhill before, both in America and in the country houses of England. The two were about the same age, and as Underhill's mother was an American, Edestone had hoped that he would not have quite so much trouble in getting him to look at the matter from an American point of view.

Underhill, however, was just on that account a little bit more formal with the cousins from across the sea than were most of the men of high position in Europe. He was undoubtedly taken aback and thrown off his guard when he found that Edestone was the dangerous American lunatic of whom he had been warned. In the first place, he knew that there was not the slightest chance of his being an impostor, and he also knew exactly how much of a lunatic he was. He knew, in fact, that he was a hard-riding, clear-thinking, high-minded Anglo-Saxon of the very best type to be found A Rusty Old Cannon-Ball anywhere, and he smiled as he thought of Rockstone's advice not to kick him out of the Admiralty.

With considerable show of cordiality, he invited his visitor into a small room adjoining his large office, and sat him down at the opposite side of a wide table.

"Lord Rockstone told me you were coming, but did not mention your name. He is quite a chap, that Rockstone. Not what you Americans would call a very chatty party, however. Now what can I do for you? Lord Rockstone tells me that you have some new invention, or something of the sort, that will help us to finish up this little scrimmage without the loss of a single Tommy. Well, that is exactly what we are looking for, and you American chaps are clever at thinking out new ideas. He tells me, however, that you do not wish to sell it. Now I can understand better than he why that part would be of no especial interest to you; but can't we deal with a Syndicate, or a Board of Underwriters, a Holding Company, or some of those wonderful business combinations that you Americans devise in order to do business without going to jail? Is the poor starving inventor some billionaire like yourself, who works only for honour and glory? In that case we might get an Iron Cross for him. In fact, we might get one blessed by the Emperor himself, by Jove!"

Edestone laughed. "Well, Mr. Underhill, you cannot deny inheriting a certain amount of American wit. I have so often heard the older members of the Union Club tell stories of Billy Travers's witty sayings. He must have gone the pace that kills. One of the old servants used to tell that whenever Travers and Larry Jerome and that set came in for supper, they expected the waiters to drink every fifth bottle; it made things more cheerful-like--but _revenons a nos moutons_. Lord Rockstone is right, I do not want to sell my discovery, for mine it is. I am the penniless inventor. I only want an opportunity of showing it to the heads of the Powers that are now at war, and of demonstrating to them the stupendous and overwhelming force that is now practically in the hands of the greatest of the neutral governments, and thus try, if possible, to convince them of the uselessness of continuing this loss of life and treasure.

"If I could demonstrate to you, Mr. Underhill, that I could, sitting here in your office, give an order that would set London on fire and send every ship in the English navy to the bottom in the course of a few weeks, would you not advocate opening negotiations for peace? And were I to show the Emperor of Germany that his great army could be destroyed in even less time, would he not be more receptive than we now understand him to be?"

"Why, Mr. Edestone, I most certainly should," the First Lord of the Admiralty granted with a smile, "and I think that perhaps the German Emperor would be amenable under the circ.u.mstances, but as they say in your great country, 'I am from Missouri, you must show me.'"

He changed his position and glanced at Edestone as if he were beginning to think that possibly Rockstone might be right in his estimate after all.

"Very well, Mr. Underhill; it is now five minutes to noon, and I think that I will be able to show you in exactly five minutes."

He took from his pocket a leather case, such as a woodsman might use to carry a large pocket compa.s.s, and removing the cover set out upon the table an instrument that was entirely enclosed in vulcanized rubber. On the top, under gla.s.s, was a dial, with a little needle which vibrated violently, but came to a standstill soon after being placed on the table. Two small platinum wires, about twelve inches long and carefully insulated, issued from opposite sides of the hard rubber casing.

Underhill's face at first bore only an expression of mild amus.e.m.e.nt, but as Edestone evidenced such a deadly earnestness, he showed more interest and said with a rather nervous laugh: "Look here, old chap, don't blow the entire English navy out of the water while you're closeted here with me. I must have some witness to prove that I didn't do it or I might have to explain to the House of Commons."

Edestone, a hard and drawn look about his mouth, paid no heed, but taking his watch out of his pocket fixed his eye on the little needle of the instrument and waited as the last few seconds of the hour ticked off. As the second hand made its last round, and the minute hand swung into position exactly at twelve, he leaned over the table as if trying by mental suggestion to make the instrument respond to his will. But it remained perfectly quiescent, and with a half sigh and a tightening of the lines about his mouth, he closed his watch. Could it be possible, he thought, that "Specs" had forgotten his instructions always to use Greenwich time?

He was about to replace the instrument in its case, when he was startled by a clock on the mantel, which began to strike the hour of twelve. Involuntarily he counted the strokes as they chimed slowly, and as the vibrations of the last stroke faded away the little needle swung an entire circuit of the dial, returning to its original position. This was repeated three times.

Underhill, although still interested in what was going on, seemed a bit relieved when nothing more startling happened.

"Oh, I say, you know, you gave me quite a start," he jested. "I thought that you were going to set London on fire, and you simply seem to be taking your blood-pressure."

Edestone still paid not the slightest attention to him, but after glancing about the room walked over to the mantelpiece where he picked up an old twelve-inch cannon-ball, which with considerable difficulty he brought back and placed on the table by the side of his instrument. His eyes once more roved about the room as if he were seeking something, and stepping deliberately to a pa.s.se-partout photograph of King George V., he ripped off the binding with his pocket-knife and tore from it the gla.s.s.