"That's the buck! Him wid th' phony whiskers an' th' Dootch get-up!"

"Vell, vot off it? Can he do somedings?"

"And how should I know phwat that lad can do to th' likes o' me, or phwat the divil brings him here at all, at all! Sure, he's been around these three nights running----"

Freund laughed his contempt for all things American, including police and secret service, and wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

"Look, once, Soane! Do these Yankees know vat it iss a police, a gendarme, a military intelligence? Vat they call secret service, wa.s.s iss it? I ask it? Schweinerei! Dummheit? Fantoches! Imbeciles! Of the Treasury they haff a secret service; of the Justice Department also another; and another of the Army, and yet another of the Posts! Vot kind of foolish system iss it?--mitout no minister, no chef, no centre, no head, no organisation--und everybody interfering in vot efferybody iss doing und n.o.body knowing vot n.o.body is doing--ach wa.s.s!

Je m'en moque--I make mock myself at dot secret service which iss too dam dumm!" He yawned. "Trop bete," he added indistinctly.

Soane, rea.s.sured, lowered the shutter, came back to the table, and finished his beer with loud gulps.

"Lave us go up to the lodge till he goes out," he suggested. "Maybe th' boys have news o' thim rifles."

Freund yawned again, nodded, and rose, and they went out to an unlighted and ill-smelling back stairway. It was so narrow that they had to ascend in single file.

Half way up they set off a hidden bell, by treading on some concealed b.u.t.ton under foot; and a man, dressed only in undershirt and trousers, appeared at the top of the stairs, silhouetted against a bright light burning on the wall behind him.

"Oh, all right," he said, recognising them, and turned on his heel carelessly, pocketing a black-jack.

They followed to a closed door, which was made out of iron and painted like quartered oak. In the wall on their right a small shutter slid back noiselessly, then was closed without a sound; and the iron door opened very gently in their faces.

The room they entered was stifling--all windows being closed--in spite of a pair of electric fans whirling and droning on shelves. Some perspiring Germans were playing skat over in a corner. One or two other men lounged about a centre table, reading Irish and German newspapers published in New York, Chicago, and Milwaukee. There were also on file there copies of the _Evening Mail_, the _Evening Post_, a Chicago paper, and a pile of magazines, including numbers of _Pearson's_, _The Fatherland_, _The Ma.s.ses_, and similar publications.

Two lithograph portraits hung side by side over the fireplace--Robert Emmet and Kaiser Wilhelm II. Otherwise, the art gallery included photographs of Von Hindenburg, Von Bissing, and the King of Greece.

A large map, on which the battle-line in Europe had been p.r.i.c.ked out in red pins, hung on the wall. Also a map of New York City, on a very large scale; another map of New York State; and a map of Ireland. A dumb-waiter, on duty and astonishingly noiseless, slid into sight, carrying half a dozen steins of beer and some cheese sandwiches, just as Soane and Freund entered the room, and the silent iron door closed behind them of its own accord and without any audible click.

The man who had met them on the stairs, in undershirt and trousers, went over to the dumb-waiter, scribbled something on a slate which hung inside the shelf, set the beer and sandwiches beside the skat players, and returned to seat himself at the table to which Freund and Soane had pulled up cane-bottomed chairs.

"Well," he said, in rather a pleasant voice, "did you get that letter, Max?"

Freund nodded and leisurely sketched in the episode at Dragon Court.

The man, whose name was Franz Lehr, and who had been born in New York of German parents, listened with lively interest to the narrative. But he whistled softly when it ended:

"You took a few chances, Max," he remarked. "It's all right, of course, because you got away with it, but----" He whistled again, thoughtfully.

"Sendelbeck must haff his letter. Yess? Also!"

"Certainly. I guess that was the only way--if she was really going to take it up to young Barres. And I guess you're right when you conclude that Nihla won't make any noise about it and won't let her friend, Barres, either."

"Sure, I'm right," grunted Freund. "We got the goots on her now. You bet she's scared. You tell Ferez--yess?"

"Don't worry; he'll hear it all. You got that letter on you?"

Freund nodded.

"Hand it to Hochstein"--he half turned on his rickety chair and addressed a squat, bushy-haired man with very black eyebrows and large, angry blue eyes--"Louis, Max got that letter you saw Nihla writing in the Hotel Astor. Here it is----" taking the pasted fragments from Freund and pa.s.sing them over to Hochstein. "Give it to Sendelbeck, along with the blotter you swiped after she left the writing room. Dave Sendelbeck ought to fix it up all right for Ferez Bey."

Hochstein nodded, shoved the folded brown paper into his pocket, and resumed his cards.

"Is thim rifles----" began Soane; but Lehr laid a hand on his shoulder:

"Now, listen! They're on the way to Ireland now. I told you that. When I hear they're landed I'll let you know. You Sinn Feiners don't understand how to wait. If things don't happen the way you want and when you want, you all go up in the air!"

"An' how manny hundred years would ye have us wait f'r to free th'

ould sod!" retorted Soane.

"You'll not free it with your mouth," retorted Lehr. "No, nor by drilling with banners and arms in Cork and Belfast, and parading all over the place!"

"Is--that--so!"

"You bet it's so! The way to make England sick is to stick her in the back, not make faces at her across the Irish Channel. If your friends in the Clan-na-Gael, and your poets and professors who call themselves Sinn Feiners, will quit their childish circus playing and trust us, we'll show you how to make the Lion yowl."

"Ah, bombs an' fires an' shtrikes is all right, too. An' proppygandy is fine as far as it goes. But the Clan-na-Gael is all afire f'r to start the shindy in Ireland----"

"You start it," interrupted Lehr, "before you're really ready, and you'll see where it lands the Clan-na-Gael and the Sinn Fein! I tell you to leave it to Berlin!"

"An' I tell ye lave it to the Clan-na-Gael!" retorted Soane, excitedly. "Musha----"

"For why you yell?" yawned Freund, displaying a very yellow fang. "Dot big secret service slob, he iss in the bar hinunter. Perhaps he hear you if like a pig you push forth cries."

Lehr raised his eyebrows; then, carelessly:

"He's only a State agent. Johnny Klein is keeping an eye on him. What does that big piece of cheese expect to get by hanging out in my bar?"

Freund yawned again, appallingly; Soane said:

"I wonder is that purty Frinch girrl agin us Irish?"

"What does she care about the Irish?" replied Lehr. "Her danger to us lies in the fact that she may blab about Ferez to some Frenchman, and that he may believe her in spite of all the proof they have in Paris against her. Max," he added, turning to Freund, "it's funny that Ferez doesn't do something to her."

"I haff no orders."

"Maybe you'll get 'em when Ferez reads that letter. He's certainly not going to let that girl go about blabbing and writing letters----"

Soane struck the table with doubled fist:

"Ye'll do no vi'lence to anny wan!" he cut in. "The Sinn Fein will shtand for no dirrty wurruk in America! Av you set fires an' blow up plants, an' kidnap ladies, an' do murther, g'wan, ye Dootch scuts!--it's your business, G.o.d help us!--not ours.

"All we axe of ye is machine-goons, an' rifles, an' ships to land them; an' av ye don't like it, phway th' divil d'ye come botherin' th'

likes of us Irish wid y'r proppygandy! Sorra the day," he added, "I tuk up wid anny Dootchman at all at all----"

Lehr and Freund exchanged expressionless glances. The former dropped a propitiating hand on Soane's shoulder.

"Can it," he said good-humouredly. "We're trying to help you Irish to what you want. You want Irish independence, don't you? All right.

We're going to help you get it----"