Part 16 (1/2)

But despite all this he was sorely puzzled and cudgeled his brain to find a reasonable explanation for many things which seemed inexplicable.

If, as it seemed, the garage had been a hiding place for smuggled liquor, what connection did it have with the submarine and the divers Rawlins had captured? Had the contraband been brought there in the under-seas boat, and if so how? He knew, as Rawlins had already pointed out, that a submarine could not go in and out of any port-in the West Indies or elsewhere-without attracting immediate attention, for there were not many of the craft knocking about and even if the natives of the islands had kept the secret some of the government's agents who were scattered through the West Indies would either have seen or heard of the craft. Mr. Pauling, for example, had personally been to Cuba and Na.s.sau and while he had seen schooners leave with cargoes only to return empty without being reported from any American port, still he had found or heard nothing which would indicate a submarine unless, yes, that might be possible-the schooners might have transferred their cargoes to the under-sea boat in mid-ocean or at some uninhabited island.

But even in that case, the native sailors, the mulattoes and negroes, surely would have talked about it. To them, a submarine would have been far too remarkable and interesting a thing not to have told their wondering cronies and families about it. And where, a.s.suming this was so, had the bootleggers secured the vessel?

Rawlins had a.s.sured him the submarine was a German U-boat of a recent type, such as had been off the United States coast during the latter days of the war, but she could not be one of these, for the Navy, he knew, had accounted for them all. Had the Germans taken to rum-running?

Had they secretly retained one or more submarines, and, knowing the enormous profits to be made, put them to use carrying cargoes of liquor from the West Indies to the United States? Of course this was possible, but somehow Mr. Henderson, who was famed in the Service for his ”hunches,” which nine-tenths of the time proved right, had a feeling that there was something deeper, some mystery behind it, and he had high hopes of fathoming this or at least of throwing some light upon it by an interview with the unharmed prisoner.

That he would obtain a confession or even much information from the fellow, he very much doubted, for he knew the man of old-knew him for a sullen, arrogant and thoroughly desperate man and one who could and did keep his mouth shut under the most severe grilling. Mr. Henderson deeply regretted that the other prisoner had been injured by inhaling the flames in his helmet, for with two men, each thinking the other had betrayed him, there would be a good chance of getting at the bottom of things, but it was almost hopeless now. The surgeons had stated that the man was doomed, that he could not possibly survive his terrible burns and that it was doubtful if he ever regained consciousness. Mr. Pauling was to be summoned when the wounded man came to his senses, if he ever did, and in the meantime the other prisoner was to be brought before Mr.

Henderson by two of his own men whom he had despatched for the purpose, for, while he and Mr. Pauling cooperated with the police in many ways, they had no desire to let the police learn of many matters that were taking place or hear statements or confessions which they might repeat.

As soon as Mr. Henderson reached his office, where the erstwhile janitor was on guard, he hurried the latter off and then, taking some doc.u.ments from a safe and lighting his pipe, he proceeded to study the papers with minute attention. He was interrupted in this by the return of the messenger who was accompanied by a small, wiry, dark-haired man whom Mr.

Henderson addressed as ”Ivan” and who seated himself in a proffered chair and proceeded to make himself quite at home with an immense black cigar.

”It's Smernoff!” announced Mr. Henderson presently. ”Got him to-day under very remarkable circ.u.mstances-no matter what. Recognized him at once although he's shaved off his beard. Examined his mouth and chest to make sure. I expect him here in a few moments. Do you happen to know if he ever served in the German army?”

”Sure, yes, I know,” replied the Russian. ”Not in the army, no, but the navy.”

”What was his job?” demanded Mr. Henderson.

”That I do not know,” replied the other with a shrug of his shoulders.

”H-m-m,” muttered Mr. Henderson. ”Well, I want you to be here to interpret. He doesn't speak much English or won't. I guess they're coming now.”

A moment later, there was a rap on the door and the janitor-once more in jumper and overalls-left by another entrance and armed with dustpan and broom proceeded to busy himself in the hallway exactly as if he had not been interrupted several hours previously by Frank's excited summons to Mr. Pauling.

At Mr. Henderson's ”Come in!” two heavily built men in civilian clothes entered, crowding closely one on either side of the sullen man who had been captured by Rawlins.

Not until they had seated themselves at Mr. Henderson's orders would any one have suspected that the pig-eyed man was a prisoner or was handcuffed. For a s.p.a.ce, Mr. Henderson gazed steadily and silently at the prisoner who returned his stare, hate and venom in his eyes, and then, turning to Ivan, Mr. Henderson ordered him to ask the fellow certain questions.

It is not necessary to repeat the conversation, or rather the queries and replies, and for some time no satisfactory information was brought out, the captive absolutely refusing to admit anything or to say a word which might incriminate himself or his fellows. But when, after a deal of questioning, Mr. Henderson had Ivan hint that the men captured in the raid on the garage had betrayed the Russian and his fellow diver, the man's face took on a demoniacal expression, his eyes blazed and a torrent of curses and foul oaths burst from his lips.

A moment later, he checked his furious outburst and replied quickly to many of the interrogations put to him through the interpreter.

It was soon evident, however, that he was either extremely ignorant of many matters or else was an accomplished liar, and, while the information he gave cleared up many matters which had puzzled Mr.

Henderson previously, still the most important and mysterious features of the whole case remained as much a mystery as ever.

”I guess that's all we can find out, or all he'll tell,” declared Mr.

Henderson at last. ”Take him away and be mighty careful to have him well guarded. He's a slippery rascal and we don't want him getting away this time.”

As the men with their prisoner left the room, Ivan rose as if to go.

”Sit down!” Mr. Henderson ordered him. ”I may need you again at any minute. We've got another man to question yet.”

Ivan's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he had long been employed as an interpreter in Mr. Pauling's service and had learned not to ask questions or make comments, no matter how amazing or perplexing a matter might appear. So, again seating himself comfortably, he lit another of his huge cigars and waited patiently and silently for further orders.

Meanwhile Mr. Henderson was going over his hastily written statements of the prisoner and with his knowledge of the man's past and his ”hunch”

was striving to dovetail the information with surmises and records so as to form a complete whole.

It was interesting and fascinating work-this building up a case from fragments and conjectures-a sort of jig-saw puzzle with many of the parts missing, and Mr. Henderson was an adept at it. Indeed, he often spent hours, when he had time to spare, playing the game with imaginary or hypothetical cases exactly as a person will play a game of solitaire.

It was this ability to piece together stray bits of evidence, and his almost uncanny intuition, that had secured the high position he held and had won the envy and admiration of all in the Service who knew him, although his friends good-naturedly chaffed him about his ”imagination,”