"Are you quite sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Didn't he even leave an address where you could reach him?"
"Oh, yes—he did that."
"Where?"
"On board the interned steamer Liebenfels in Charleston Harbor."
Grant sent a quick glance into the eyes of Dixie Mason. She returned the gaze. Then the president of the Criminology Club called to Sisson, his operative, standing just outside the door.
"Take this fellow into New York and put him in the Tombs," he ordered. "I will not return to the club. My address for the next few days will be Charleston, S.C."
And so it was that Dixie Mason and Harrison Grant rushed to Charleston, to learn, if possible, the motive of Heinric von Lertz, and to seek to forestall the impossible. And while they hurried on—
"The representative of the Secretary of State is waiting, sir," said Bernstorff's servant. The arch-spy of Imperial Germany raised his eyebrows.