"Scotty, what else is it that makes you think there is something wrong in the wind?" I asked, thinking hard as we worked.
"Well, why don't I go as usual? Why do they put a Boche in my place and order me to look after repairs on the ocean tug? And why do they want a five-pound gun and rifles? They're going to call at the Tortugas and then cross the Gulf—to Galveston or New Orleans. There's no submarine there. The fat party and two or three others are going. The cabins were fixed up to-day and a new cook is shipped."
"You couldn't hear what they said about Canby?"
"No, but I'm sure they are watching him; they know what he does every day. He's very slick and either knows too much for 'em or is beating them to something. And 'beer-tub' is a muckle sore about having his hand punctured."
All the unanswered questions Scotty asked struck me between the eyes at once. What did the manager and an executive of Bulow and Company want to see in Canby's warehouse? Was it the beautiful leather, or something else for which they were willing to "break and enter"—committing a felony—to see? Why were they mounting cannon and taking on rifles if their object was lawful and peaceful? And why did they want a crew strictly Boche? Scotty noticed my silence and looked over anxiously.
"Scotty," I asked quietly, "do you know that, outside of gold and a conscience, the Boche needs copper, rubber and cotton, in the order named, more than anything else?"
"That they do."
"Think it over. Copper from Mexico, or any Gulf port in the States. The same of cotton, and the biggest rubber port, Campeechy, across the straits. It is possible you have overlooked or forgotten something. Has any of Bulow's ships, tugs or barges handled anything like that? And that, just now, might mean a Dutchman's one per cent, besides loyalty to the murder trust, in getting that kind of merchandise into Germany through Sweden?" We both worked swiftly as we talked, running down the nuts on the cylinder-head studs.
Scotty, under his breath, began heaping curses on himself as a bonehead, and tried to take it out on the wrench he was using. I waited till he subsided.
"Scotty, you know the Deutschland, a cargo U-boat, has made a few trips to northern ports and that a sister sub they never mentioned is known to have left for this side. Is it possible Bulows have something to do with it? And that everything the Boche fails to say is just as important as what he usually lies about?"