Spies of the Kaiser: Plotting the Downfall of England

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER V

  THE SECRET OF THE NEW BRITISH AEROPLANE

  "If we could only approach the Military Ballooning Department we might,perhaps, learn something," I remarked. "But I suppose that's quite outof the question?"

  "Quite," declared Ray. "We should receive no information, and only belaughed at for our trouble."

  "You don't think that the new Kershaw aeroplane can be the one now beingtried by the Royal Engineers with so much secrecy on the Duke ofAtholl's estate?"

  "I think not," was his prompt reply. "My reason briefly is because Ihave discovered that two Germans stayed at the Blair Arms Hotel, atBlair Atholl, for six weeks last summer, and then suddenlydisappeared--probably taking with them the plans of the airship aboutwhich there has been so much secrecy."

  "I don't quite follow you," I said.

  "No, there is still another fact. A month ago there arrived in England aman named Karl Straus, a lieutenant of the Military BallooningDepartment of the German Army stationed at Duesseldorf. He paid severalvisits to our friend Hartmann in Pont Street, and then disappeared fromLondon. Now, why did he come on a special mission to England? For onereason. Because of the failure of Germany's hope, the Zeppelin airship,combined with the report that our new Kershaw aeroplane is the mostperfect of the many inventions, and destined to effect a revolution inwarfare. The Kershaw, which was only completed at South Farnborough twomonths ago, is now being tried in strictest secrecy. Vera was told so byan engineer officer she met at a dance at Chatham a short time ago."

  "And it is being tried here in the north somewhere," I added, astogether, seated in a "forty-eight Daimler," we ascended Glen Garry fromBlair Atholl--which we had left a couple of hours before--and sped alongover the wild, treeless Grampians towards Dalwhinnie. The March morningwas bitterly cold, and snow covered the ground, rendering the Highlandscenery more picturesque and imposing. And as we preferred an open carto a closed one, the journey was very cold.

  Our inquiries in Blair Atholl had had a negative result. In the long,old-fashioned Blair Arms Hotel Ray had made a number of searchinginquiries, for though two officers of the Ballooning Department livedthere, and had been conducting the experiments in Blair Park, it wasplain that the machine had never yet taken flight. So the pair ofmysterious Germans, whose names we discovered in the visitors' book, hadeither obtained the details they wanted or had left the neighbourhood indisgust.

  It was at my friend's suggestion that we had hired the car from Perth,and had now set out upon a tour of discovery in the wildest and leastfrequented districts of the Highlands--some of which are in winter themost unfrequented in all Great Britain. Something--what I know not--hadapparently convinced him that the tests were still in progress.

  "And where the trials are taking place we shall, I feel certain, findthis inquisitive person Karl Straus," he declared. "From Berlin, througha confidential source, I hear that it was he who obtained the GermanGeneral Staff photographs and plan of the new French aeroplane that wastried down in the Basque country last May. He's an expert aeronaut andengineer, and speaks English well; our object is to discover hiswhereabouts."

  In pursuance of this quest we visited the various hotels on our waynorth. The "Loch Ericht" at Dalwhinnie we found closed, therefore wewent on to Newtonmore, and by taking luncheon at the hotel thereascertained that there were no visitors who might be either Britishmilitary officers or German spies.

  In the gloomy, frosty afternoon we, a month after the affair down atMaldon, sped up the Speyside through dark pine forests and snow-coveredmoorland till we found ourselves in the long grey street of Kingussie,where we halted at the Star Hotel, a small place with a verandah, verypopular in summer, but in winter deserted.

  Leaving me to warm myself at the fire, Ray crossed to the telegraphoffice to despatch a message, and afterwards I saw him enter a smallshop where picture post-cards were sold. For a quarter of an hour heremained inside, and then went to another shop a few doors further down.

  Afterwards he rejoined me, and as we remounted into the car I saw thathis face wore a dark, puzzled expression.

  "Anything wrong?" I inquired, as we sped away through the firs towardsLoch Alvie and Aviemore.

  "No," he replied. Then, after a pause, he asked, "You once used to ridea motor-cycle, didn't you, Jack?"

  I replied in the affirmative; whereupon he said that it would benecessary for me to hire one, an observation which somewhat mystifiedme. And for the next hour we roared along over the loose, uneven roadthrough Aviemore, where the chief hotel was, of course, closed, and onover Dulnan Bridge, that paradise of the summer tourist; then turning tothe right past the post office, until we were soon "honk-honking" up thewide main street of Grantown.

  Here in summer and autumn the place is alive with tourists; but inwinter, with its tearing winds and gusty snowstorms, the little placepresents a very different appearance. The excellent "Grant Arms,"standing back from the road at the further end of the town, is, however,one of the few first-class hotels in the Highlands open all the yearround. And here we put up, both of us glad to obtain shelter from thesleet which, since the twilight had faded, had been cutting our faces.

  While I sat before the big smoking-room fire with a cigarette, after wehad been to our rooms to remove the mud from our faces, Ray was bustlingabout the hotel, eagerly scanning the visitors' book, among otherthings.

  Our quest was a decidedly vague one, and as I sat staring into theflames I confess I entertained serious misgivings.

  When I went forth into the hall to find my friend, I was told that hehad gone out.

  A quarter of an hour later he returned, saying:

  "I've seen a garage along the street; come with me and hire amotor-cycle. You'll probably want it."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Wait and see," was his response; therefore I put on my hat and coat andwalked with him to the garage, about half-way along the street, where Ipicked out a good strong machine which was duly wheeled back to thehotel.

  That night, among the eight or nine guests assembled for dinner, therewas not one who had any resemblance either to a German spy or an officerof the Military Balloon Factory at South Farnborough.

  In the days following we used our map well, scouring the whole of theSpey side to the Bridge of Avon, and on to Rothes, while westward wedrove by Carrbridge, over the Slochd Mor to Loch Moy and across toDaviot. We explored the steep hills of Cromdale and Glen Tulchan,surveyed the rugged country from the summit of Carn Glas, and madejudicious inquiry in all quarters, both among village people, shepherds,and others. Nowhere however could we gather any information that anytrials of an airship were in progress.

  Sometimes in leggings, mackintosh, and goggles, I went forth alone on mymotor-cycle, negotiating the rougher byways and making confidentialinquiry. But the result was ever a negative one and alwaysdisheartening.

  On one occasion I had been out alone and reached the hotel, when, somehours later, our chauffeur returned with the car empty, and handed me ahastily scribbled note to explain that Ray had left suddenly for thesouth and instructing me to remain at Grantown till his return.

  By that I imagined that he had made some discovery. Or had he gone southto see Vera, his well-beloved?

  Curiously enough, next day a foreigner--probably a German--arrived atthe hotel, and, as may be imagined, I at once took steps to keep himunder the strictest observation. He was a quiet, apparently inoffensiveperson about thirty-five, who, among his impedimenta, brought amotor-cycle and box camera. Before he had been in the place twenty-fourhours I had convinced myself that he was the spy Straus.

  This fact I wired to Bruton Street in the code we had long ago arranged,hoping that the message would find my friend.

  To my surprise, all the reply I got was: "Be careful that you have madeno mistake."

  What could he mean? I read and re-read the message, but remained muchpuzzled, while my excitement increased.

  Each day the new arrival, who had written the name of "F. Goldstein"
inthe visitors' book, went forth on his cycle to explore the beauties ofthe Highlands, the thaw having now cleared the roads, and on eachoccasion I managed by dint of many subterfuges to watch his proceedings.His gaze was ever in the distance, and each time he gained high groundhe swept the surrounding country with a pair of powerful prismaticfield-glasses.

  I confess I was rather annoyed at Ray's conduct in thus abandoning me atthe very moment of my discovery, for here was the ballooning expertStraus bent upon seeing and photographing our newest arm of defence.

  As the days passed I exerted every precaution, yet I followed himeverywhere, sometimes using the car, and at others the motor-cycle.

  The spy, a bespectacled, round-faced Teuton who spoke with a strongaccent, was ever active, ever eager to discover something in the air.Yet, to my intense satisfaction, he seemed to be utterly unaware that Iwas keeping so strict a watch upon his movements. Purposely I avoidedspeaking to him in the hotel, for fear of arousing his suspicions.

  One day Mr. Goldstein did not appear, and in response to my inquiry thewaiter informed me that he had caught cold and was confined to his room.

  A spy with a cold! I laughed within myself, and the afternoon beingbright, I took a run south through the Abernethy Forest down to LochPityoulish. On my return I crossed Dulnan Bridge, where the turbulentDulnan River hurtles along over the stones on its way down to the Spey.I dismounted, hot and tired, and propped up my cycle against the parapetto rest and admire the dark pine-clad gorge which opened to the north.

  My reflections were suddenly cut short by a loud humming sound whichseemed to come from the road which I had just traversed. Instinctively Ilooked round for the approaching motor-car. The sound came nearer, butinstead of a car, I saw in the air, above the tops of the firs againstthe distant hill in the background, a splendid aeroplane with two menaboard. Swiftly it swept over the stream with the ease and majesty of anenormous albatross!

  Next instant it had disappeared from my gaze. Yet in that brief moment Ihad had ocular demonstration that the secret trials were in progress inthe neighbourhood.

  I waited on tiptoe with excitement. Again the whirring sound camenearer, the occupants of the neighbouring cottages being undisturbed,believing it to be a motor-car. Once again I saw the new aeroplanecircling above the tree-tops to the north, after which it turnedsuddenly and made off in a bee-line south, in the direction whence I hadtravelled.

  I had actually seen the new invention!

  Scarcely, however, had I recovered from my surprise when I heard, comingfrom the direction of Grantown, the "pop-pop-pop" of a motor-cycle, andacross the bridge like a flash, in the direction the aerial machine hadtaken, came the spy whom I had only that morning left an invalid in bed.

  That evening, while writing a letter in the hotel, I had a surprise; Iwas called to the telephone, and heard Ray's voice asking me to send thecar to him.

  He told me that he was staying as Mr. Charles Black at the Star Hotel inKingussie, about twenty-eight miles distant, and promised to come overto see me shortly.

  I told him what I had seen that afternoon, and how the spy had been onthe alert, but to my surprise he only replied:

  "Good! Keep on the watch. If what I expect is true, then we're on a bigthing. Keep in touch with me on the 'phone, and have a continuous eye onyour Mr. Goldstein."

  I replied that I would, and that our friend had just returned.

  Then he rang off.

  Why was he at Kingussie, instead of assisting me?

  Next day I was early astir, and before luncheon had covered many mileson the motor-cycle. Ray had not asked me over to Kingussie. If he wantedme, he would have said so.

  Goldstein had not appeared downstairs, therefore after luncheon, I wentforth again, taking the road northward from Grantown, and just as I waspassing beneath the castellated railway-bridge about a mile and a halffrom the hotel, I again suddenly saw straight before me the wonderfulKershaw aeroplane. The car looked like a long, thin cylinder of brightsilvery metal, which I took to be aluminium, and in it I discerned twomen.

  It travelled in a circle several times over the tree-tops, and then, justas at Dulnan Bridge, it dived straight away over the dark pine foresttowards the lonely moors of Cromdale. Without a second's hesitation Imounted and rode full speed after her, keeping her well in sight as Iwent towards Deva.

  Yet scarcely had I gone half a mile when I again heard behind me the"pop-pop-pop" of another cycle, and turning, saw to my satisfaction theman Goldstein, who had evidently seen the aeroplane, and was now bentupon obtaining all details of it.

  Going up the hill I drew away from him, but as we descended he passedme, and in order to pose as an excited onlooker, I shouted to him mysurprise in seeing such an apparatus in the air.

  He evidently knew more of the new invention than I did. And yet Ray heldaloof from me.

  Next day, having been out for a stroll, I returned to the hotel aboutnoon, when a few moments later my friend entered the reading-room.

  "Let's go to your room," he suggested; therefore we ascended the stairs,and I opened the door with my key.

  As soon as I had done so, he made a swift tour of the apartment,examining both the carpet and the red plush-covered chairs withoututtering a word.

  Then he stood in the centre of the room for a moment, and slowlyselected a cigarette from his case. Ray Raymond was thinking--thinkingdeeply.

  "Your friend Goldstein has a visitor," he remarked at last.

  "Not to my knowledge," I said.

  "He occupies room No. 11 in this hotel," he went on. "This is 16,therefore he must be quite near you."

  "But who's the visitor?"

  "A friend of Goldstein's. Downstairs you can discover his name."

  I descended and found that on the previous evening there had certainlyarrived at the hotel a Mr. William Smith, who occupied room No. 11.

  But how was Ray aware of it?

  I returned to my room, and found him staring out of the window into theroadway below. I saw that he was unusually agitated.

  "My dear Jack," he said, turning to me when I told him the name of theoccupant of No. 11, "how horribly stuffy this room is! Do you never havethe window open?"

  "Of course," I said, crossing to open it as usual. But I found that ithad been jammed down tightly, and that felt had been placed in thecrevices by the hotel people to exclude the draught.

  Ray noticed it, and a curious smile crossed his aquiline countenance.

  "I'd remove all that, if I were you," he exclaimed. "And I'd also pullout all that stuffing I see up the chimney. You never have a fire here,I suppose."

  "I hate a fire in my bedroom," I answered. "But what has that to do withour friend Goldstein?"

  "A good deal," was his reply. "Take my advice and have a fire here;" andby his look I saw that he had discovered more than he wished at thatjuncture to tell me. Had I known the astounding truth, I certainlyshould not have taken his words so calmly.

  He appeared to evince an interest in my room, its position and itscontents, but when I remarked upon it he pretended unconcern. He rangthe bell and inquired of the waiter for Mr. Goldstein and Mr. WilliamSmith, but the man informed him that both gentlemen were out. "Ibelieve," added the waiter, "that Mr. Goldstein is leaving us thisevening or to-morrow, sir."

  "Leaving!" I echoed as soon as the man had closed the door. "Shall Ifollow?"

  "No. It really isn't worth while," Ray replied, "at least not just atpresent. Remain here and have a care of yourself, Jack."

  What did he mean? We ate a hasty lunch, and then, mounting into the car,my companion ordered the chauffeur to drive south again past DulnanBridge to Duthil, where we turned up to the right and ascended thethickly wooded hill of Lochgorm on that stony road that leads out uponthe desolate Muirs of Cromdale. After we had cleared the wood he orderedthe man to pull up, for the road was so bad. Descending, we climbed thesteep ascent to the summit of a hill, where, after sweeping thesurrounding country with a small pair of powerful glasses
I carried, Iat last discerned the aeroplane heading westward some ten milesdistant.

  Unfortunately, however, the clouds came down upon us, and we quicklyfound ourselves enveloped in a gradually thickening Scotch mist, whilethe aeroplane, soon but a faint grey shadow, quickly faded from ourgaze.

  Ray Raymond was ever a dogged person. He decided to descend, and this wedid, passing over the other side of the hill for half an hour, progressof course being slow on account of the clouds.

  Presently a puff of cold wind came up out of the east, and patches ofdun-coloured moorland began to appear below through the rents of thefast-breaking clouds; when presently our watchful eyes caught the dullleaden gleam of a sheet of water about three miles ahead, which a lookat my map enabled me to recognise as Lochindorb.

  And just as we were able to locate the spot we again saw the bigwhite-winged aeroplane as she swooped down to the surface of the loch,upon which she floated swanlike and majestic.

  "Well?" I asked, turning and looking him in the face.

  "Well, Jack, I've seen it in flight just as you have," he said, "butI've never yet approached it. I've had reasons for keeping away. Afterto-day, however, there is no longer much necessity for hesitation."

  "I hardly follow you, old chap," I declared, my eyes still fixed throughthe glasses upon the aeroplane sailing along the surface of the distantlake.

  "Probably not," he laughed, "but you'll see the motive of my actionsbefore a few days are over, I hope. Let's go back." And returning to thecar he carried me as far as the entrance to Grantown, where he depositedme, and then turning, ordered the man to drive with all speed back toKingussie.

  When I re-entered my comfortable hotel I learnt that Goldstein had leftby the afternoon train for the south. My interest therefore lay in thenew arrival in No. 11, but though I waited up till midnight, he did notreturn.

  Just as I was returning to bed I made a curious discovery in my room.Running from the top of the high, old-fashioned mahogany wardrobe, withits heavily ornamented cornice, was a long piece of strong, black cord,which, passing down the side panel, was placed close to the wainscoting,so as to avoid notice, the end being placed beneath the mat outside thedoor.

  At once I suspected a practical joke, but on mounting one of theold-fashioned chairs, I looked along the top of the wardrobe, butdiscerned nothing.

  So I gathered up the piece of cord, held it in my hand with curiosityfor a few moments, and then wondering who had any object in playing sucha prank, turned in and slept soundly till morning.

  I had scarcely sat down to breakfast in the small upstairscoffee-room--which is used in winter--when I was summoned to thetelephone, where Ray predicted that the mysterious Mr. Smith would soonreturn, and if he did, I was to betray no interest in him whatsoever,and above all, avoid any friendship.

  Such instructions mystified me. But I had not long to wait for thereturn of the man who called himself Smith, for he arrived just as itwas growing dusk.

  After dinner I was seated in front of the blazing fire in my room,smoking and reading the _Courier_, when I heard a man in heavy bootspass my door, and recognised his low, hacking cough as that of theoccupant of No. 11.

  I opened the door, and peering forth saw that he was dressed in hisloose mackintosh and cap and carried a stout stick. He was going forthfor a night walk!

  Therefore I slipped on my thick boots and coat and followed. He hadturned to the right on leaving the hotel, but in the silence of thenight it was difficult, nay, almost impossible, to watch his movementsunobserved.

  For about two miles I went forward, following the sound of his footstepsin the dark night in the direction of Dava Moor, until we entered theforest of Glaschoile, where the footsteps suddenly ceased.

  I halted to listen. There was a dead silence. The man had realised thathe was being followed, and had plunged into the forest.

  So, disappointed, I was compelled to retrace my steps to the hotel.

  I tried to telephone to Ray, but was told that late the previous nighthe had gone out on the car and had not returned.

  Therefore I remained there, impatient and helpless, the mysterious Smithbeing still absent.

  At three o'clock that afternoon the car pulled up before the door andRay descended.

  "Put on your coat and come with me," he said briefly. And a few minuteslater we were tearing along over the same road which the mysteriousSmith had taken in the darkness--the direct road which leads north byway of Dava, away to Forres.

  Just past the little school house of Dava we left the main road, andstriking across the wide, bleak, snow-covered moor for about a mile,suddenly came into view of a wide and lonely expanse of dark water inthe centre of the desolate landscape. It was Lochindorb, where, in thedistance, we had seen the Kershaw aeroplane alight and sail along thesurface.

  As we reached the edge of the loch I saw out upon a small islet in thecentre a ruined castle, a long, almost unbroken, grey wall of uniformheight, without turrets or battlements, occupying the whole of theislet. Below the walls a few bushes grew from the water's edge, but itwas as dreary and isolated a spot as I had ever seen. Beyond stretchedthe big, dull sheet of water, backed only by the low, uninterestingmoorland, the only break in the all-pervading flatness and monotonybeing afforded by a few wind-stunted trees on the right of the road, anda small dark plantation ahead.

  When the car had stopped and we had got out and walked a few yards, Raysaid:

  "Yonder is the old castle of Lochindorb, Jack. Behind those walls is theshed which shelters the Kershaw aeroplane. Look!"

  And gazing in the direction he indicated, I saw a skiff with threeoccupants coming across from the shadows on the left towards the island.The man steering was a corporal of engineers in khaki.

  "It appears," Ray went on, "that the machine takes her flight from theopen surface of the loch, which, as you see, is about two miles long.She enters and leaves the shed by water."

  As we were speaking, a bearded gillie of gigantic stature came up fromnowhere and promptly ordered us away, an order which we were veryreluctantly compelled to obey.

  At last, however, we had discovered the obscure spot where the secrettrials were in progress.

  "I knew from the first that the tests must be in progress in thisdistrict," Ray said, "for a month ago that motor engineer in Grantown ofwhom you hired your cycle made a small part of a new motor for a man whowas a stranger. The part was broken, and the stranger ordered another tobe made. I learnt that the first night we were in Grantown."

  He resolved to spend that night at Grantown, therefore we dinedtogether, and when we rose from table he went to his room in order toobtain his pipe.

  THE NEW BRITISH ARMY AEROPLANE: ROUGH SKETCH DRAWN BYLIEUT. KARL STRAUS, OF THE GERMAN SECRET SERVICE.]

  Ten minutes later he returned, saying:

  "Just come with me for a moment, Jack."

  I rose and followed.

  We ascended the stairs, and passing along the corridor he halted beforethe door of No. 11 and tapped at it quietly.

  It opened, and Smith stood upon the threshold.

  "I wish to speak with you a moment," Ray said, facing him determinedly.

  The man's face fell. We both entered, but so surprised was he that hecould utter no protest.

  We saw that on the table beneath the lamp was spread a number ofphotographs and papers.

  He had been writing upon a sheet of foolscap and the writing was inGerman.

  "Yes," exclaimed Ray in a tone of satisfaction as he bent over to glanceat the first few lines. "I see. You report: 'The upper plane is somewhatcurved, with an----'"

  "What's my business to do with you, pray?" the man asked defiantly inexcellent English.

  "Well, your business has interested me greatly, Herr Straus," calmlyreplied my companion, "and I congratulate you upon the ingenious methodby which you got a sight of the Kershaw aeroplane at an early hour thismorning. I was at Lochindorb with you--and rather cold waiting, wasn'tit?"

  The man now
recognised gave vent to a quick imprecation.

  "I see you've just developed that photograph you took in secret as shesailed within twenty yards of you! But I shall trouble you to give itover to me, together with the rough sketch I see, and your writtendescription of our new military invention," he said, with mockpoliteness.

  "I don't know you--and I shall do nothing of the sort."

  "I know you, Karl Straus, as a spy of Germany," exclaimed my friend,with a grin. "Your reputation for ingenuity and cunning reached us fromFrance"; and snatching up the sheet of foolscap he turned to me, saying,"Listen to this, Jack," and while the German agent stood biting his lipsin chagrin at being discovered at the eleventh hour, my friend readaloud the spy's report, as follows:

  "The upper plane of the Kershaw aeroplane is somewhat curved, with an upward curve at the front. The side planes are composed of a light framework covered with a number of small squares of some light material, each stretched on a light frame hinged to the main frame at the rear end of each. To the front end is fastened a strong silken cord. These cords are all fastened at their lower ends to a large ring. To this is attached a wire rope, which passes over a pulley-wheel at the end of a species of outrigger, and thence into the cigar-like body of the car. From what I have observed when the machine is in flight, it is evident to me that the steersman (who sits at the fore part of the car) is able to manipulate these by means of levers, so that the numerous flaps forming the surface of the side planes can be opened and closed at will.

  "Thus suppose the machine to be diving; slackening these ropes, the pressure of the air underneath causes the flaps to open. As soon as this happens their inclination upwards tends to make the machine rise so long as the propellers are driving her forward, the angle of ascent being controlled by the angle to which they are allowed to open. If the machine inclines to lean over to right or left, the opening and closing of the flaps on one side or the other can be used to counteract it and restore the balance. With all kept tightly closed she can go forward or dive. With them open, and engines stopped, she dives quickly. The rudder is of box-kite form, and fastened to the after end of the cigar-like car, which apparently contains the engines, petrol tanks, etc., and enough air space to render the machine buoyant when water-borne. The propellers, which are placed on hollow shafts, whose bearings are supported on horizontal braces between the two V-shaped aluminium lattice girders attaching the planes to the car, are driven by separate endless chains, which come up out of the centre of the cylinder. They seem to be made either of aluminium, or more probably magnalium.

  "My drawing has rather exaggerated the diameter of the cylindrical car. There is a light wooden foot-board at either side, which also helps to steady the machine when on the water and two small floats at the end of the outriggers for the same purpose. There are also three small wheels fitted, I presume for facilitating ascent from dry ground.

  "KARL STRAUS."

  The spy laughed a low, hollow laugh of defiance. What could he say? Hehad been outwitted just at the supreme moment of his success.

  "I admit, my friend, that you were extremely clever in putting forwardGoldstein as the spy, and thus misleading my friend Jacox," Ray said intriumph, as he laid his hand upon the rough sketch of the Kershawinvention. "But for a very timely discovery, too, my friend would havemet with the terrible fate which you and your accomplice planned withsuch devilish ingenuity. So if you don't wish to be arrested forconspiracy and murder you'd better make yourself scarce out of Englandquickly."

  "What do you mean, Ray?" I cried.

  "I'll show you," he answered as he gathered up the whole of the spy'spapers while the German stood helpless. "Come along to your room withme."

  When inside he pointed to the old red-plush-covered chairs, and said:

  "Do you recollect my arrival after Straus's visit? I examined thosechairs, and saw upon one the traces of chalk. The shoes of the occupantof room No. 11 had been chalked by the boots with his number, and uponthe chair I saw traces, and knew that he had stood there to gain the topof your wardrobe."

  "For what reason?" I asked.

  For answer he turned up the gas and pointed to the cornice of theceiling behind the wardrobe, where I saw that upon the leaden gas-piperunning along it was a long, narrow strip of what looked like paperwhich had been pasted.

  "Those men meant to kill you, Jack," he said. "On the morning I camehere Straus had entered, climbed up to the gas-pipe, and with hisclasp-knife cut a hole in it. Over that he, as you see, placed severalthicknesses of medical plaster, attaching to it a piece of strong blackcord, and carrying it outside the door. After that they plugged up yourwindow and chimney, so that when you were asleep all they had to do wasto just pull the string, which would strip off the plaster, allow thegas to escape into the room, and thus asphyxiate you. The plaster couldbe dragged beneath the door into the passage outside."

  "Great heavens!" I gasped, staring astounded at the white medicalplaster on the gas-pipe along the cornice. "What a narrow escape I'vehad!"

  "Yes. While I was in London, Vera went up with her maid and stayed atthe 'Star' at Kingussie, where she overheard the two men inconversation, and learnt the clever trick they were playing withGoldstein as the spy. She suspected that they intended to rid themselvesof your unwelcome surveillance, and returned at once to me in London.Fortunately I discovered the dastardly plot, and that morning I cut thecord."

  "That fellow Straus is a much more desperate character than he looks."

  "Yes. But we'll just go back and you can tell him your opinion of him,"he laughed.

  We went together along to No. 11. The spy had already left, butascending the stairs was Vera, in a long travelling-coat, her maidfollowing with the wraps.

  She had just arrived from London, and after she had greeted us in herusual merry manner, told us that she was the bearer of very importantnews--news of the activity of spies in another quarter.

  We quickly told her how we had managed to outwit Straus, while I, on mypart, thanked her warmly for having made that startling discovery whichhad, no doubt, saved me from falling a victim to that dastardly plotformed by one of the most ingenious of the many unscrupulous spies ofthe Kaiser.