The Radio Detectives

inister events were taking place, of which the boys knew little or nothing, but which kept Mr. Pauling

, and without warning, it had appeared throughout the country. Every town, city and village was filled with it and so cleverly were the circulars, booklets and handbills worded, so logical were the arguments and statements they contained, so appealing to the uneduca

ehicles stolen under the noses of the police. Homes of the rich, banks and business houses were entered and ransacked despite electric burglar alarms and armed guards. Each day the daring criminals grew bolder. From thugs they were changing into murderous bandits; where formerly a man was knocked down or blackjacked the victims were now shot in cold blood. Murders and homicides were of daily occurrence. Even on crowded thoroughfares within sight of hundreds of passers-by men were killed and the bandits escaped and no one felt that life and property were safe. The police seemed powerless and at a loss. Now and then a bandit

enace to earth, to stamp the venomous Bolshevist serpent underfoot, to bring the country to its safe and sane law-abidi

heart and soul are warped and twisted. One who is such a criminal as the world has fortunately never known before. If we can lay our hands on him the rest will be easy. Without a leader, without a directive brain, these common cr

ardly plot to inflame the people and at the same time enrich himself. To my mind, it savors of some one far greater in brain power, in intrigue and in ability than those unshaven, misguided Russians. It looks far more as if it were Ge

bear out your theories had been wrung from the men captured even though they were on the verge of death or were about to go to the electric chair. No, I do not agree with you. It's merely the aftermath of the war. Men were taught to handle firearms and to kill their fellow men. They were fed up, encouraged and lived with excitement and constant peril. The war ended; they were out of work, they pined for the thrill of danger a

us plot, that greatest attempted coup of the enemy to terrorize and cripple the United States, that supreme effort of a dying, beaten nation to turn the tide of war and transform her from the vanquished to the victor, was the work of one man. To him was entrusted this almost superhuman task. The reward, if he succeeded, was to be honors and riches beyond conception. Had he won he would to-day be seated upon the throne of England-the despotic, iron-handed governor of a German colony with his feet upon the neck of the British people and with the colossal indemnity, which it had been planned to exact from our country, as his monetary reward. If he failed, his life was to pay the forfeit. Not only his life was to be sacrificed, but his lands and property were to be confiscated, his family imprisoned, degraded and exiled. It was, I think, the greatest, the most stupendous gamble ever known. And the gambler lost! By the merest chance, by pure accident, by a coincidence which no human being could have foreseen, his messages-the vital message-came int

. Henderson as he paused after

I know who you mean-there's no use mentioning names even here. And if it is he I can understand why he has picked on Uncle Sam. But, by Jove, o

e of himself, so puffed up with his own importance that, sooner or later, he's bound to overdo himself. He cannot resist the temptation to let some one know what

a sheet of paper on the table and t

ter across it. There was no date, no signature, merely the words: "Remember Mercedes and Garcia." But to these keen-eyed,

s being alive and this coming from him is concerned. But why do

d Mr. Henderson. "Examine this pamphlet-the latest effusion of

as the flimsy pamphlet p

"a" has a broken tail, the capital "T" has a little twist in one arm of the top, the small "e" is flattened or battered and the "B" always shows a tiny smudge above it where the character on

nner. The machine that wrote one wrote the other. Not a shade of a doubt of it. But

he writing on one machine. I imagine he is hanging out somewhere and takes no chances by entrusting his work to outsiders. A man could do all the typi

bit of lead about half an inch in diameter and resembling a

s to do with the

e fact that this is a metal seal from a particular brand and make of an extremely high-priced French West Indian liquor. Until the day after I received this reminder of Mercedes and Garcia, there was not, to the best o

about the bandits. Have you

ed Mr. Henderson. "H

e drew a creased paper from an inside pocket

, eh?" remarked the fi

the police nabbed on West 16th St. last week. Nothing was said while

n. "All right, Pauling, I may be from Missouri, but you

ad said nothing but had been steadily consuming one black cigar after another by the process of chewing them betwe

clapping the other familiarly on the back. "'The mills of t

"it's a cinch he is. Henderson and Pauling get their notes only two days apart and, what's more, Pauling gets his within twenty-fo

ed rubbish is also written right in the

rum being smuggled in. Been stored here and just being distributed now. Bet we've all been walking over the trail

discussed plans, offered suggestions, examined mysterious documents stored in a hidden and massive safe

in another safe and the men chatted on various matters, discussing the latest news, arguing the respective merits of motor cars, expressing opinions as to the next pennan

Mr. Pauling when the conversation finally turned towards wireless. "Hend

g chap at Nassau with a new-fangled diving suit and he and the boys are trying

nother. "Under-sea wireless! Well, I'll be

red Selwin. "I remember how every one laughed at Marconi when he first s

an hour or so the others left, some by the same corridor, others through an outer room, where an office boy seemed dozing in a chair over a lurid, paper-covered novel-but upon whose boyish, freckled cheeks a closely-shaven, heavy beard might have been detected by a near examination-while still others took a

boarded them they were either empty or carried legitimate cargoes or else they never touched our ports and came back empty. It's common talk that the stuff is going to us, but no one has given away how it's done yet. Why, I even had one tr

bor. Of course we're watching for them and let up on other places and while we're boarding the suspect the other craft gets in on some unfrequented bit of coast and meets a truck or car. It's not hard. We can't guard all the coast with our forc

cause, once set ashore or near shore, John can look after himself and doesn't need a truck to carry

ated Mr. Henderson. "I'm morally certain they were all right in their cross bearings with their loops, although I did

his new idea I expect they've forgotten all about it. I promised I'

extension phone towards him, lifted

in anxious, frightened tones he cried, "What's that you say? Frank! What's that? Tom under water! Calling f

on its hook Mr. Paul

ord knows what's up! Send Jameson and a bunch of men. Order a patrol dow

down the stairs. With a bound he cleared the last few steps, hurtled like a football player through the pedestrians on the sidewalk, leaped into his waiting car and the next instant was violating every traffic law as he drove madly through the streets. On

e the room, Mr. Henderson was talking over a private wire to the nearest police station. Ten seconds later, he was rushing downstai

g their necks and peering down the street where, far ahead, the police patrol was startl

d failure to accomplish what the government demanded of him, Mr. Pauling, who was noted for his self-possession, his calmness and clear-headedness in the most trying and perilous moments, was now mad with fear and his teeth actually chattered with nervousness. His car, racing at break-neck speed, seemed almost to crawl. Every corner seemed to be purposely blocked by traffic. He thought he had never seen so many persons crossing the streets, so many slow-moving, horse-drawn vehicles impeding his progress. He cursed aloud, handled his levers with savage jerks, gritted his teeth and mentally prayed he would not be too late. N