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 are verboten. 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 the verboten sign. 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 it has erred," 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!"