"Certainly not. The offer came through a former 'longshoreman who has carefully concealed his pro-German leanings. He let them think that the whole thing was a matter of revenge on the shipowners and that he had powerful commercial friends who would be willing to pay for that vengeance."
Bernstorff breathed easier.
"Very good," he announced. "Then that does not hurt our cause—providing we can find some way of creating a strike. And understand," he clenched a hand and faced his colleagues, "this strike must go through! It means more to Germany than a victory at the front! When the 'longshoremen strike, it means that the ports of the East must inevitably be tied up. Not a ship will move. Industries will be paralyzed—and consequently the Allies will be deprived of the necessities of war. Of course," he added with a quiet smile, "It will be hard on America, but——"
"These idiotic Yankees deserve something like that anyway," growled Captain Von Papen. However, Bernstorff had turned his attention to Rintelen.
"You say that agitation has failed. Attempted bribery has failed. Then, some other means must be attempted."
Rintelen was pacing the floor. Suddenly his hands clasped.
"I have it," he announced. "I know the way! There is nothing that angers a man so much as depredation against his property. That's what our spies must commit—and then we must fasten the blame on the 'longshoremen. It will create a breach that nothing can close."
Hurriedly they gathered for conference. And while they plotted the stagnation of all Eastern America——
Harrison Grant rose from his desk and turned with a little sigh to look into the grinning face of Pat Hennessy, the Irish caretaker of the club.
"Guess you're waiting for me to close up shop?" the master detective asked a little wearily.