“Money is what I am after. But the game has become too dangerous. Apparently, your secretary — I refer to Vincent — has delivered another set of plans to Senator Ross Releston. That leaves me with a useless possession.”
Slowly, Hildrow drew forth the tracings from the briefcase. He looked dejected as he spread the stolen diagrams upon the desk.
“I hold these,” he said bluntly, “and I hold you. Frankly, I doubt that I can force you to supply the missing links in these plans. Should I undertake to make you build a new model submarine, the process would require your removal to a foreign land. I lack the funds to accomplish it.
“I know the general principle of your invention.” Hildrow paused to study the tracings. “An undersea boat, equipped with chemical tanks into which water is introduced when the ship submerges. The chemical agency, I understand, will supply the motive power for the submarine.
“Ships that are shells, lessened from the burden of heavy motors. Boats that can carry the maximum capacity of torpedoes. But the vital parts of this invention are missing from these plans. I congratulate you, commander, upon your canniness.”
“Proceed with your offer,” suggested Dadren.
“Very well,” declared Hildrow, muffling a smile within his beard. “I am willing to return these plans to you. I am ready to release you, for a cash consideration.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars is the price that I ask. That amount will reimburse me for the expense that I have undergone. It will allow me sufficient funds to clear the country. It will release me from an embarrassing situation.”
HILDROW waited. He was banking heavily upon Dadren’s reaction. The commander did not know that Hildrow had dealt in murder. The treachery of Hasker had been the only evidence of Hildrow’s scheming, so far as Dadren had observed.
Dadren’s smile became one of contempt. Meeting Hildrow’s gaze, he voiced his opinion of the disguised crook. Dadren was blunt.
“You are talking like a kidnaper,” he declared. “A man in your position should be anxious to get out of it.”
“I am,” admitted Hildrow. “Frankly, commander, I have not yet been branded as the type of criminal you mention. But I fear that I may be. That is another reason why I desire to make terms. That is why I have set the price so low.
“Hear me out. If you accept my offer, you have merely to write a letter to Senator Ross Releston, telling him not to issue a statement that you have been abducted. According to the newspapers, your plane crashed between Cedar Cove and Washington.
“In your letter to Senator Releston, you must add a mention of the price required. I shall dictate the letter for you to copy. State also that if the senator accedes, he has only to keep the news from the press. That will tell me that payment will be made.”
Dadren was thinking. His first impulse was to deride this criminal; but second thought advised him to consider further. Hildrow had issued veiled threats. Forced measures to make Dadren complete the plans; removal to some place where he would have to conduct new experiments under threats of death or torture — these were elements that Dadren did not overlook.
The stern-faced commander did not fear such procedure. But he was thinking of his country; of what his invention would mean to the government that he had served. He knew what he thought Hildrow did not know: that these tracings were necessary to the other plans. He also knew that twenty-five thousand dollars was a sum that Senator Releston would produce without a murmur.
“I might consider your terms,” parried Dadren, with feigned reluctance. “I see, however, where they could prove unsatisfactory. How could the senator know that he will actually gain my release after he has paid the sum you ask?”
“I do not ask the money in advance,” purred Hildrow, now becoming persuasive. “I merely want assurance that it will be delivered.”
“By whom?”
“By yourself.”
“To whom?”
“To a man whose name I shall reveal along with my own, if you agreed upon the compromise.”
“Name the intermediary.”
“Very well,” declared Hildrow. “I shall do so. You must agree never to mention his name in connection with your abduction. I rely upon your honor.”
“That is odd,” scoffed Dadren. “You are no man of honor.”
“But you are,” returned Hildrow. “Do you consent to keep silence if I tell you the name of the man who will receive your payment?”
Again, Dadren meditated. He could see no occasion to refuse this request. Quietly, he said:
“I agree.”
“The man’s name,” announced Hildrow, “is Eric Hildrow. He is a friend of Senator Releston. An expert on international trade conditions.”
“I have heard of him.”
“You will secretly pay him the money that the senator gives you.”
“Yes.”
“I trust you, commander,” said Hildrow, seriously. “Therefore, I shall reveal my true identity.”
Hildrow ripped the disguise from his face. Dadren was amazed at the change. He studied the pallid countenance that the beard had hidden. Hildrow, in turn watched every detail of Dadren’s expression.
“Who are you?” questioned Dadren.
“Eric Hildrow,” replied the plotter.
THE revelation produced a marked effect upon the commander. Dadren was astonished at the depths to which Hildrow had sunk. He was also impressed with the belief that the man’s plight must be desperate. With it, he realized that he had promised not to mention Hildrow’s name.
That was Hildrow’s crafty touch, the gaining of that promise. It showed him to be a trickster, even when he was laying his cards upon the table. It brought conviction to Dadren’s mind. Hildrow observed it. Producing pen and paper, he passed them to Dadren.
“I shall dictate the note, commander,” he declared in a weary, almost apologetic tone.
Dadren took the pen. He wrote the note, word for word, as Hildrow gave it, following the pattern that the plotter had previously outlined. Hildrow read the letter when Dadren had finished. Blotting the ink, he enclosed the message in an envelope and asked Dadren to address it.
“I shall mail this letter,” announced Hildrow. “For the present, however you will have to remain here, commander. I shall order Korsch to make your stay as pleasant as possible.”
He gathered up the plans and placed them in the portfolio. He tucked the little case under his arm and made another apologetic statement.
“I must retain these,” he said, “until I know that the terms have been accepted. After that, commander, I shall return them to you. That will be on the day of your release.”
Dadren watched Hildrow put on his false beard. Then the plotter called for Korsch. The fellow entered. Hildrow used a disguised tone to instruct him that Commander Dadren was to receive friendly treatment despite his imprisonment.
Then Hildrow left. He joined the man in the coupe and was driven back to Washington. He transferred to a cab near the outside of the city. Later, he arrived at the quiet apartment house.
MARLING was waiting when Hildrow walked in. He saw his chief remove the disguise. He listened while Hildrow, chuckling, gave him the details of the conference with Dadren. Marling stood astounded while Hildrow produced the letter that the commander had written.
“Mail it, Marling,” ordered Hildrow.
“I can’t,” protested Marling. “Have you gone crazy, chief? Sinking the whole works for twenty-five grand? Leaving yourself in Dadren’s hands? Say, if I mail this letter, it means—”
“It means,” interrupted Hildrow, with a chuckle, “that we shall gain success. Once that letter is mailed, Marling, those missing plans will practically be in my hands. Are you fool enough to think that I talked straight to Dadren?