"Are these actual photographs?"

"Made from articles taken from a German officer's trunk, in a neutral

country. He was on his way somewhere, I imagine."

Clayton sat silent. Then he took out his fountain-pen and surveyed it

with a smile.

"Rather off fountain-pens for a time, I take it!" observed Dunbar.

"Well, I've something else for you. You've got one of the best little

I.W.W. workers in the country right here in your mill. Some of them

aren't so bad--hot air and nothing else. But this fellow's a fanatic.

Which is the same as saying he's crazy."

"Who is he?"

"Name's Rudolph Klein. He's a sort of relation to the chap that got out.

Old man's been sore on him, but I understand he's hanging around the

Klein place again."

Clayton considered.

"I don't remember him. Of course, I can't keep track of the men. We'll

get rid of him."

Mr. Dunbar eyed him.

"That's the best thing you can think of?"

"I don't want him round, do I?"

"Nine of you men out of ten say that. You'd turn him loose and so warn

him. Not only that, but he'll be off on his devil's work somewhere.

Perhaps here. Perhaps elsewhere. And we want him where we can find him.

See here, Mr. Spencer, d'you ever hear of counter-espionage?"

Clayton never had, but the term explained itself.

"Set a spy to watch a spy," said Dunbar. "Let him think he's going on

fine. Find his confederates. Let them get ready to spring something. And

then--get them. Remember," he added with sarcasm, "we're still neutral.

You can't lock a man up because he goes around yelling 'Down with

capital!' The whole country is ready to yell it with him. And, even if

you find him with a bomb under his coat, labeled 'made in Germany,' it's

hard to link Germans up with the thing. He can say that he always buys

his bombs in Germany. That they make the best bombs in the world. That

he likes the way they pack 'em, and their polite trade methods."

Clayton listened, thinking hard.

"We have a daughter of Klein's here. She is my son's secretary."

Dunbar glanced at him quickly, but his eyes were on the window.

"I know that."

"Think I should get rid of her?"

Dunbar hesitated. He liked Clayton Spencer, and it was his business just

then to know something about the Kleins. It would be a good thing for

Clayton Spencer's boy if they got rid of the girl.




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