In Secret | Page 9

smoking stub on the hearth, gazed fearfully around
the dimly lighted bedroom, and peered into the dark dining-room
beyond.
Suddenly Miss Erith's hand tightened on his sleeve.
"Hark!" she motioned.
He heard it, too--a scuffling noise of heavy feet behind a closed door
somewhere beyond the darkened dining-room.

"There's somebody in the kitchenette!" she whispered.
Vaux produced his pistol; they stole forward into the dining-room;
halted by the table.
"Flash that door," he said in a low voice.
Her electric torch played over the closed kitchen door for an instant,
then, at a whispered word from him, she shut it off and the dining-room
was plunged again into darkness.
And then, before Vaux or Miss Erith had concluded what next was to
be done, the kitchen door opened; and, against the dangling lighted
bulb within, loomed a burly figure wearing hat and overcoat and a big
bass voice rumbled through the apartment:
"All right, all right, keep your shirt on and I'll get your coat and vest for
you--"
Then Miss Erith flashed her torch full in the man's face, blinding him.
And Vaux covered him with levelled pistol.
Even then the man made a swift motion toward his pocket, but at
Vaux's briskly cheerful warning he checked himself and sullenly and
very slowly raised both empty hands.
"All right, all right," he grumbled. "It's on me this time. Go on; what's
the idea?"
"W-well, upon my word!" stammered Vaux, "it's Cassidy!"
"F'r the love o' God," growled Cassidy, "is that YOU, Mr. Vaux!" He
lowered his arms sheepishly, reached out and switched on the ceiling
light over the dining-room table. "Well, f'r--" he began; and, seeing
Miss Erith, subsided.
"What are you doing here?" demanded Vaux, disgusted with this
glaring example of interference from another service.

"What am I doing?" repeated Cassidy with a sarcastic glance at Miss
Erith. "Faith, I'm pinching a German gentleman we've been watching
these three months and more. Is that what you're up to, too?"
"Herman Lauffer?"
"That's the lad, sir. He's in the kitchen yonder, dressing f'r to take a
little walk. I gotta get his coat and vest. And what are you doing here,
sir?"
"How did YOU get in?" asked Miss Erith, flushed with chagrin and
disappointment.
"With keys, ma'am."
"Oh, Lord!" said Vaux, "we jimmied the door. What do you think of
that, Cassidy?"
"Did you so?" grinned Cassidy, now secure in his triumphant priority
and inclined to become friendly.
"I never dreamed that your division was watching Lauffer," continued
Vaux, still red with vexation. "It's a wonder we didn't spoil the whole
affair between us."
"It is that!" agreed Cassidy with a wider grin. "And you can take it
from me, Mr. Vaux, we never knew that the Postal Inspection was on to
this fellow at all at all until you called me to stop outgoing letters."
"What have you on him?" inquired Vaux.
Cassidy laughed:
"Oh, listen then! Would you believe this fellow was tryin' the old
diagonal trick? Sure it was easy; I saw him mail a letter this afternoon
and I got it. I'd been waiting three months for him to do something like
that. But he's a fox--he is that, Mr. Vaux! Do you want to see the letter?
I have it on me--"

He fished it out of his inside pocket and spread it on the dining table
under the light.
"You know the game," he remarked, laying a thick forefinger on the
diagonal line bisecting the page. "All I had to do was to test the letter
by drawing that line across it from corner to corner. Read the words
that the line cuts through. Can you beat it?"
Vaux and Miss Erith bent over the letter, read the apparently innocent
message it contained, then read the words through which the diagonal
line had been drawn.
Then Cassidy triumphantly read aloud the secret and treacherous
information which the letter contained:
"SEVEN UNITED STATES TRANSPORTS TO-DAY NEW YORK
(BY THE) NORTHERN ROUTE. INFORM OUR U-BOATS.
URGENCY REQUIRES INSTANT MEASURES. TEN MORE ARE
TO SAIL FROM HERE NEXT WEEK."
"The dirty Boche!" added Cassidy. "Dugan has left for Mexico to look
up this brother of his and I'm lookin' up this snake, so I guess there's no
harm done so far."
"New York.
"January 3rd. 1916.
"My dear Brother:
"For seven long weeks I have awaited a letter from you. The
United-States mails from Mexico seem to be interrupted. Imagine my
transports of joy when at last I hear from you today. You and I, dear
brother, are the only ones left of our family--you in Vera Cruz. I in
New-York--you in a hot Southern climate, I in a Northern, amid snow
and ice, where the tardy sun does not route me from my bed till late in