Part 20 (2/2)

Count von Bernstorff, the German Amba.s.sador and chief plotter; Dr.

Heinrich Albert, his a.s.sistant and treasurer; Franz von Rintelen, reported to be a near relative to the Kaiser; Captain Franz von Papen, the military attache; and his partner, Captain Boy-Ed, the naval attache. From this group at the top, the lines spread down, through business men, doctors, editors, clerks, butlers, and every rank and cla.s.s in America. ”Big Bill” Flynn, for many years the clever chief of the Secret Service, said that he thought there were 250,000 men and women in this country who were working for Germany. Sad to say, not all of them were German by birth; a few, the most dangerous, were native Americans, although they were Germans at heart. Everywhere, in the most unexpected places, these German agents were found, always busily carrying out their orders with regular German blindness, and never questioning or knowing anything about the hideous acts of their superiors. The German machine was, in short, like a huge wheel, with the brains at the hub.

The United States fought this contemptible creation with several weapons. The Secret Service was of course the most active; but it was very greatly helped by the Department of Justice, the Naval Intelligence, and the Military Intelligence, as well as by the police departments in the various cities. In fact, one of the greatest troubles at times was that too many agencies would be working on the same case. They stepped on each other's heels.

All these branches grew in size during the war, but especially the Naval and Military Intelligence offices. As early as January, 1916, patriotic citizens were quietly serving their government, all unknown even to their own friends, and were collecting pieces of information and hints here and there that, in the end, were of great value. If the Germans had spies in every nook and cranny of our nation, so did we--business men, secretaries, cooks, doctors, and laborers. The Secret Service was everywhere. Again and again, when some devoted German was busily doing his duty to his Fatherland, an American Secret Service agent would lay a hand on his shoulder and show him a ticket to a prison camp. And then, so curious is the German way of thinking, nine times out of ten the German, intensely surprised and very cross at being caught in the act, would insist that he was doing nothing, and that he had a perfect right to do it!

Now watch the two forces at war. The German machine was working quietly along, now and then blowing up a factory and now and then being caught red-handed. It had already suffered a severe loss, for Captain von Papen, the military attache, had been discovered in his work by the British and had been deported. When he reached Germany, by the way, he was given the Order of the Red Eagle by the Kaiser, who doubtless recognized in the bungling plotter a fellow spirit. Thanks to the information gained from von Papen's papers, the United States had a very good idea of what the other Germans in America were doing and began to make arrests.

Every afternoon at about five o'clock Dr. Albert, the amba.s.sador's a.s.sistant, would leave his office at 45 Broadway, New York, and take the elevated railroad uptown to his luxurious rooms in the German Club.

He always carried with him a brown leather dispatch case. The Secret Service men, who had been keeping an eye on him, determined to get that case, because they knew from the way the doctor always held on to it, that it must contain something important. A wise member of the Service was chosen to make the coup.

He watched the German closely for many days, and saw that the doctor took a train just at five o'clock every day; that, on the train, he read his evening paper very intently (possibly to see which one of his friends had been arrested last); and that he always walked through the same streets from the railroad to his club. Finally one day the agent decided that he was ready to try for that little brown case.

That evening a quiet, well-mannered gentleman, not noticeable in any particular way, took the seat next to Dr. Albert on the train. The doctor spread out his paper with true German disregard for the persons on each side of him, and began to read. Always he held the flat brown case clutched against his side. The train pa.s.sed several stations and still the doctor hugged his case. Although the car was packed with people, the American carefully avoided crus.h.i.+ng against the spy, for fear of alarming him. More stations were left behind, and the doctor had nearly finished his paper. The Secret Service man was getting worried; would he fail? And there were the papers, so close to him.

Then the train stopped at the next to the last station. At the same minute Dr. Albert completed his reading, and for the fraction of a moment raised his arm to fold the sheets. With lightning quickness the agent slid the dispatch case away from the doctor's side and stood up.

Two or three people jostled him, and he staggered against the doctor.

Then he lunged for the door. The doctor finished folding his paper and felt for his case. It was gone. He jumped to his feet and glared around him wildly.

”Conductor!” he shouted, ”My case! It is gone!”

The gates of the car clanged shut and the train started slowly. Down the stairs to the street went the American, quietly and confidently, with the brown leather case under his arm. On the train, Dr. Albert, white of face, was bitterly calling on his German Gott to find his case for him!

The next day, and the next, and for many days thereafter, a few modest lines of advertising appeared in New York papers, saying that a brown leather case had been lost on an elevated train and that a small reward would be paid for its return. The advertis.e.m.e.nt stated that the case was of no value to anyone but the owner. The poor doctor did not dare call attention to his loss by sounding too loud an alarm, for he knew what was in the bag.

”Of no value to anyone but the owner!” Not to ninety-nine people out of a hundred, perhaps; but the hundredth man had the case, and he and his chief knew what to make of it.

On a windy morning in April, 1916, two American secret agents, dressed, as always, in civilian clothes, were walking down Wall Street toward number 60. From information obtained through the capture of several spies, they knew that in an office at 60 Wall Street a big, polite German, Wolf von Igel, was running an advertising agency that was not an advertising agency. They knew further that Wolf was one of the chief plotters, and that he kept many of the most important German plans locked in a big burglar-proof safe, on which was painted the Imperial German seal. Lastly, and this explains why the two agents were walking to his office at exactly that hour, they knew that some especially important plans would be in the safe and that another dangerous spy would be talking to von Igel. This piece of knowledge had come through one of the many underground ways which so puzzled the Germans. It may have been a ”tip” from some American agent who was secretly working with the Germans to spy on them.

The Americans pushed open the door, hurried right past the clerk in the outer office, and entered the inner room. Von Igel, who was bending over a packet of papers, looked up.

”I'll trouble you for those papers, von Igel,” said one of the Americans, stepping up to him.

The startled German shoved him back, leaped to the safe door, and slammed it shut. But before he had time to give the k.n.o.b a twirl, the Secret Service men were upon him. In rushed the clerk, and for a few minutes the four men wrestled and struggled madly all around the little room. But the Americans were powerful, and they had help at hand.

They threw the Germans down and sat on them to rest, while the frightened Germans protested.

”You have no right to do this,” panted von Igel. ”This is the property of the Imperial German Government, and cannot be broken into this way!”

”That'll be all right,” answered one American. ”You see it has been broken into.”

The papers, seventy pounds of them, were packed up and taken away,--with the Germans. As the men were leaving the office, they met the other spy, who was just arriving. It did not take much persuasion to make him go along too.

The German Amba.s.sador, von Bernstorff, raised a frightful uproar over this, and claimed that the papers were his. This was a sad mistake on his part, because, when the letters were opened and the plans read, he was asked to remember that he had said they were his. There was enough proof in that seventy pounds to convince even a German. Among other things there came to light their conspiracies to undermine the citizens.h.i.+p of other countries. But now all this was made worse than useless, for its discovery not only laid bare the plot, but also told the names of all the men who were taking part in it. It was the biggest victory scored by either side, and the credit for it goes to our regular Secret Service.

Three of the heads of the German beast in America had now been cut off.

There remained only von Bernstorff. He lasted nine months longer than the others. The government has not yet told the world all the details of the amba.s.sador's last great defeat, but some were as follows--

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