"This means war," was the verdict reached by every American as he read the note in the newspapers, a verdict prompted by the fearless patriotic pride which beat in every breast. Then the individual American waited, reading each new development in the diplomatic engagement which followed with bated breath, waited for the decision which they felt was inevitable.
But there was no period of waiting for Harrison Grant, nor the members of the Criminology Club. Dixie Mason and the other members of the Secret Service had no time to wait for the decision. Every other investigating branch of the government worked at high tension, for everyone who had been engaged in the secret warfare with German Agents knew that once war became inevitable the Kaiser's spy army would throw caution to the four winds and make the mightiest efforts to bring wanton destruction in every manner possible.
Grant felt that there could be no doubt in the mind of Bernstorff that war would result from the note and the conditions proposed to place upon American commerce. The night it was received he called a special meeting of the Criminology Club, and it was attended by Dixie Mason.
"Men, the supreme test of the worth of our organization has come," said Grant addressing the meeting. "The next few weeks will see the German spy army in the United States striving by every desperate means at their command to kill and destroy everything American. We must not fail in this supreme test. Beginning tonight we must shadow every member of the spy army in the country. His every action must be investigated, every person to whom he speaks must be regarded as a suspicious character. That is all. You will find your assignments in your letter boxes."
Harrison Grant had selected Heinric von Lertz as the spy for whose activities he would be responsible, and Dixie Mason had accepted the post of keeping watch over Baroness Verbecht, who had succeeded in gaining her liberty from the Tombs under bail, after the discovery of the invisible ink messages on her body by Grant and Mrs. Blank. Before either of the spies they were watching had made a suspicious move, reports were received from other operatives that the judgment of Grant that Germany was preparing for a break was correct. Any number of the lesser spies of the Kaiser in America had received orders direct from Washington which took them to the interned ships of Austria and Germany in all the harbors of the United States.
"Not one of these ships must be useful to the United States in the event of war," was the order delivered to each interned boat. "Where it is possible engines must be destroyed, otherwise the boat must be sunk. Make plans now and when the wireless lanes are filled with dots, just dots, then let the work commence."
Nothing could be done to prevent the consummation of this plan for the holds of interned vessels were forbidden property to the Secret Service under international law. So, despite the fact that it was known from many sources that these were the orders which had been sent forth to every Austrian and German commander who had a boat in an American port, the best that could be done was to station operatives near every interned boat to rush aboard the minute war was declared.
For several days Grant and Dixie had little to do except stay near the New York offices of Heinric von Lertz. Each morning he would go there and spend the entire day until evening then go to the Hohenzollern Club. Apparently he had no part in any of the affairs which were engaging the other members of the Kaiser's spy army in America. He saw no one and received none but the most ordinary messages.
Then he suddenly became active. One evening just before he left his office he sent a long code message to Washington. The next morning before the message had been deciphered for Grant, Von Lertz received a summons and went to Washington. Then he returned and started by automobile on a trip in which he employed every dodge he could think of, but Grant, Dixie and Sisson kept him in sight and at last found a real clue to his plans.
The three stood in the office of a small railroad station in a suburb of New York, firing cross-questions at the worried, frightened station agent. For hours, they had been questioning him, at first without result, but at last to see the gradual breaking down of his defense. One by one he had been forced to admissions—first that he had known the man they had shadowed to the station, Heinric von Lertz; secondly, that he had given this man a ticket for another city, just in time to allow him to catch the fast mail that had stopped there for orders, and third, that he had received orders from Heinric von Lertz just before he had boarded the train.