Dangerous Days

But, for all that, he was not a man the German organization in America

put much faith in. Rudolph, feeling his way, had had one or two

conversations with him early in the war that had made him report

adversely.

"Let them stop all this fighting," Herman had said. "What matter now who

commenced it? Let them all stop. It is the only way."

"Sure, let them stop!" said Rudolph, easily. "Let them stop trying to

destroy Germany."

"That is nonsense," Herman affirmed, sturdily. "Do you think I know

nothing? I, who was in the Prussian Guard for five years. Think you I

know nothing of the plan?"

The report of the German atrocities, however, found him frankly

incredulous, and one noon hour, in the mill, having read the Belgian

King's statement that the German army in Belgium had protected its

advance with women and children, Rudolph found him tearing the papers to

shreds furiously.

"Such lies!" he cried. "It is not possible that they should be

believed."

The sinking of the Lusitania, however, left him thoughtful and

depressed. In vain Rudolph argued with him.

"They were warned," he said. "If they chose to take the chance, is it

Germany's fault? If you tell me not to put my hand on a certain piece in

a machine and I do it anyhow, is it your fault if I lose a hand?"

Old Herman eyed him shrewdly.

"And if Anna had been on the ship, you think the same, eh?"

Rudolph had colored.

For some time now Rudolph had been in love with Anna. He had not had

much encouragement. She went out with him, since he was her only means

of escape, but she treated him rather cavalierly, criticized his clothes

and speech, laughed openly at his occasional lapses into sentiment, and

was, once in a long time, so kind that she set his heart leaping.

Until the return of Graham Spencer, all had gone fairly well. But with

his installment in the mill, Rudolph's relations with Anna had changed.

She had grown prettier--Rudolph was not observant enough to mark what

made the change, but he knew that he was madder about her than ever. And

she had assumed toward him an attitude of almost scornful indifference.

The effect on his undisciplined young mind was bad. He had no suspicion

of Graham. He only knew his own desperate unhappiness. In the meetings

held twice weekly in a hall on Third Street he was reckless, advocating

violence constantly. The conservative element watched him uneasily; the

others kept an eye on him, for future use.