“No. The originals. I am going out with them. Remain here until I return.”
WHILE Marling was obtaining the plans, Hildrow donned the disguise that he used on the day of Dadren’s capture. The black beard obscured his pallid features when he strolled from the little apartment.
Ten minutes later, Hildrow walked into a drug store. He made a telephone call from a booth; then left and strolled in the direction of the Mall. Reaching Pennsylvania Avenue, he hailed a taxi and ordered the driver to take him to an address on the Northwest outskirts of the capital.
The cabby took Hildrow for some foreign diplomat. Reaching the Naval Observatory, he threaded his way along Wisconsin Avenue, then turned to another street, still wondering from what embassy his passenger had come.
Hildrow left the cab at the street corner that he had designated. He showed no haste as he strolled along for a space of about fifteen minutes. At last he reached a small vacant lot that automobiles used as a free parking space. Spying a dull green coupe, he approached and opened the door.
A rough-faced fellow was behind the wheel. The man nodded when he saw Hildrow’s black beard. A member of Korsch’s crew, the waiting driver had recognized the disguise that the plotter was wearing.
Hildrow gave no order. He simply took his seat in the coupe and sat silent while the driver started the car.
The fellow was picking a route that avoided traveled highways. Most of the roads that he chose were well-paved, but only for a short stretch did he follow a course where traffic thickened. That was along a highway that led by the bank of the Potomac. Shortly afterward, the driver veered off to the right.
Several miles further on, the coupe turned southward, heading directly toward the river. Coming through a woods, the driver chose a road where jagged rocks jutted up from muddy ruts. Then came a bend of the river. They had reached an isolated spot above the Great Falls of the Potomac.
The river was wide at this point. The coupe had arrived close to the lower end of a thick-treed island that caused the spreading of the stream. Picking a grassy road that was scarcely more than wheel tracks, the driver swung the coupe toward the river bank. There a short bridge led over to the island.
Lost in the bend of the river, spanning the narrowest section of the stream, this bridge looked frail and forgotten. No chance motorist would have attempted to test the wavering structure. It took sharp eyes to see that the underpinning had been reinforced with new beams that made passage possible.
Rolling across the bridge, the coupe came almost to a stop as it reached the end. It jolted downward. Then it cut through a roadless clearing and stopped beneath a clump of trees. Ordering the driver to remain, Hildrow alighted.
WITH a small portfolio under his arm, the master plotter took a path that ended suddenly beside the walls of a small frame house. Some one spied him from the porch. It was Korsch.
The hatchet-faced man nodded his welcome and opened the door for his chief. Hildrow went into a roughly furnished room that looked like an office. He sat down at a desk; Korsch entered and closed the door.
“How is the prisoner?” quizzed Hildrow, in the sarcastic voice that he used with this disguise. “Has he shown any inclination to talk?”
“No,” growled Korsch. “Say, chief, if you’d let me put the clamps on the guy—”
“He would still refuse to speak,” interposed Hildrow. “No, Korsch, such tactics are useless” — he paused dryly, then added — “for the present.”
“Do you want to talk to him, chief?”
“That is why I telephoned to the road house, to order your man to come for me.”
“All right, chief. Up in his room or down here?”
“Here. A change of environment may please him.”
Korsch nodded. He turned and went out through the door. Eric Hildrow smiled through his black beard as he placed the portfolio upon the desk. The master plotter had completed his scheme.
Here, within the portfolio, were the tracings that he had taken from Commander Joseph Dadren. Those stolen plans were the bait with which Eric Hildrow intended to trick his prisoner.
CHAPTER XV
TERMS AGREED
COMMANDER DADREN was blinking when he entered the little office. Korsch had brought him from a room where blinds were drawn. The light of afternoon proved dazzling to his eyes.
Hildrow motioned to Korsch, who had followed Dadren with a ready gun. Korsch lowered the window shades halfway, then departed at Hildrow’s bidding. The bearded plotter motioned Dadren to a chair.
“Well, commander,” he began, when the prisoner was seated, “how have you been enjoying yourself here?”
No response from Dadren.
“River air should be healthful at this season,” continued Hildrow, “particularly along the Potomac. This spot is really picturesque. It is only a short trip from here down to the Great Falls.”
Dadren was showing sudden interest on his weather-scarred face. Until now, he had been unable to guess the location of the hidden cottage. He blinked again as he stared at his bearded captor.
“And the Great Falls,” resumed Hildrow, “are not far from Washington. So you see, commander, that your friends are really close at hand.”
Dadren eyed the bearded man suspiciously. This voluntary information sounded like a come-on game. That was the very effect that Hildrow was trying to produce. He wanted Dadren to be doubtful at the outset.
“Korsch tells me,” declared Hildrow, “that you will have nothing to say to him. In the meantime, I have been examining the plans that I took from you. I cannot decipher them, commander.
“It appears to me that certain portions of the diagrams must be missing. I failed to gain the other plans that I sought. Therefore, I have been unable to check upon these drawings. In a word, commander, you have me at a loss.”
Hildrow was becoming serious. His tone had lost its sarcastic tinge. Dadren was still waiting to learn the connection between the first remarks and this admission of failure.
“Possibly, commander,” declared Hildrow, earnestly, “you could be prevailed upon to supply the missing portions of the plans from memory. Indeed, you might be persuaded to do so. Korsch, for instance, believes in harsh methods.
“But I have considered that angle and I have come to a conclusion. It seems to me that we can reach an agreement that would be satisfactory to both of us. I have spoken of how close this island is to Washington. That is because I want you to know how near you are to freedom.”
A GRIM smile appeared upon Dadren’s lips. The commander did not trust the disguised plotter. Deliberately, he challenged Hildrow’s words.
“This talk means nothing,” asserted Dadren. “Until you admit your identity, I shall have no dealing with you.”
Hildrow eyed Dadren steadily. He studied every contour of the commander’s rugged face. Then, in a cautious tone, he said:
“To tell you who I am would endanger me. If you will listen to my plan and agree to a compromise, I shall reveal my identity. Is that agreeable?”
“I make no promises in advance.”
“But you will hear my terms?”
Dadren considered. Hildrow had promised much. Apparently, the man was anxious to make some deal. Dadren came to the conclusion that he had nothing to lose by acceding to the last request. He nodded his assent.
“Very well,” declared Hildrow. “Let me explain, first of all, why I wanted the plans that you were carrying to Washington. I knew that the possession of those plans might mean a chance for profit. That is why I seized them.
“I am not an agent of a foreign government. I am working entirely on my own. I simply wanted to offer the plans to the highest bidder. Professor Whitburn destroyed the set he had. That helped me — for the existence of any duplicates would end my game. I was sure that I could gain your originals.