The Man with the Clubfoot

Man with the Clubfoot, by
Valentine Williams

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Title: The Man with the Clubfoot
Author: Valentine Williams
Release Date: March 9, 2005 [EBook #15302]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE MAN WITH THE CLUBFOOT
BY VALENTINE WILLIAMS

AUTHOR OF "THE SECRET HAND," "THE YELLOW STREAK,"
"THE RETURN OF CLUBFOOT," "THE ORANGE DIVAN,"
"CLUBFOOT THE AVENGER"
1918

WHAT THIS STORY IS ABOUT
"The Man with the Clubfoot" is one of the most ingenious and sinister
secret agents in Europe. It is to him that the task is assigned of
regaining possession of an indiscreet letter written by the Kaiser.
Desmond Okewood, a young British officer with a genius for secret
service work, sets out to thwart this man and, incidentally, discover the
whereabouts of his brother.
He penetrates into Germany disguised, and meets with many thrilling
adventures before he finally achieves his mission.
In "The Man with the Clubfoot," Valentine Williams has written a
thrilling romance of mystery, love and intrigue, that in every sense of
the word may be described as "breathless."
CHAPTER
I.
I seek a Bed in Rotterdam
II. The Cipher with the Invoice
III. A Visitor in the Night
IV. Destiny knocks at the Door
V. The Lady of the Vos in't Tuintje

VI. I board the Berlin Train and leave a Lame Gentleman on the
Platform
VII. In which a Silver Star acts as a Charm
VIII. I hear of Clubfoot and meet his Employer
IX. I encounter an old Acquaintance who leads me to a delightful
Surprise
X. A Glass of Wine with Clubfoot
XI. Miss Mary Prendergast risks her Reputation
XII. His Excellency the General is worried
XIII. I find Achilles in his Tent
XIV. Clubfoot comes to Haase's
XV. The Waiter at the Café Regina
XVI. A Hand-clasp by the Rhine
XVII. Francis takes up the Narrative
XVIII. I go on with the Story
XIX. We have a Reckoning with Clubfoot
XX. Charlemagne's Ride
XXI. Red Tabs explains

The Man with the Clubfoot
CHAPTER I

I SEEK A BED IN ROTTERDAM
The reception clerk looked up from the hotel register and shook his
head firmly. "Very sorry, saire," he said, "not a bed in ze house." And
he closed the book with a snap.
Outside the rain came down heavens hard. Every one who came into
the brightly lit hotel vestibule entered with a gush of water. I felt I
would rather die than face the wind-swept streets of Rotterdam again.
I turned once more to the clerk who was now busy at the key-rack.
"Haven't you really a corner? I wouldn't mind where it was, as it is only
for the night. Come now..."
"Very sorry, saire. We have two gentlemen sleeping in ze bathrooms
already. If you had reserved..." And he shrugged his shoulders and bent
towards a visitor who was demanding his key.
I turned away with rage in my heart. What a cursed fool I had been not
to wire from Groningen! I had fully intended to, but the extraordinary
conversation I had had with Dicky Allerton had put everything else out
of my head. At every hotel I had tried it had been the same
story--Cooman's, the Maas, the Grand, all were full even to the
bathrooms. If I had only wired....
As I passed out into the porch I bethought myself of the porter. A hotel
porter had helped me out of a similar plight in Breslau once years ago.
This porter, with his red, drink-sodden face and tarnished gold braid,
did not promise well, so far as a recommendation for a lodging for the
night was concerned. Still...
I suppose it was my mind dwelling on my experience at Breslau that
made me address the man in German. When one has been familiar with
a foreign tongue from one's boyhood, it requires but a very slight
mental impulse to drop into it. From such slight beginnings do great
enterprises spring. If I had known the immense ramification of
adventure that was to spread its roots from that simple question, I verily

believe my heart would have failed me and I would have run forth into
the night and the rain and roamed the streets till morning.
Well, I found myself asking the man in German if he knew where I
could get a room