“What about money?” demanded Aucher.
“I’ll pay you $25 for it—no, I’ll do better than that. To show you I mean business, take that,” and he threw a $100 bill on the table. Ruroede also gave Aucher photographs of four German officers, and begged him to get passports right away to fit their descriptions, because he wanted to get these men off on the Norwegian Line steamer Bergensfjord, sailing January 2d. He added that the officers of the Norwegian Line had all been “smeared” (otherwise “fixed”) and that they would “stand for anything.” He also said that he would take at least forty more passports from Aucher, and that he would want them right along for six months or a year, depending on the length of the war.
Aucher delivered two more passports to Ruroede in his office on the morning of December 30th. Ruroede was rather indifferent about getting them, because—alas for the glory of the “invincible” Prussian arms!—two of his German officers had gotten “cold feet” and had refused to go. Ruroede told Aucher to come back at two o’clock and he would give him $100. Aucher invited Ruroede to have luncheon with him, and as they left the building Ruroede explained with much pride that he had chosen his office here because the building had several entrances on different sides of the block, and he used one entrance only a few days at a time and then changed to another to avoid suspicion.
The Government’s special agent complimented him highly on this bit of cleverness in the art of evasion. Five minutes later the two were sitting at a lunch counter with another special agent casually lounging in and taking the seat next to his fellow operative, where he could overhear and corroborate the account of Ruroede’s conversation.
After a discussion of Wedell’s forgeries and present whereabouts, and a further discussion of the buying of passports (in which Ruroede confided to Aucher that “there is a German fund that was sent over here for that purpose”) the pair walked back toward Ruroede’s office. At the Whitehall Street entrance Ruroede told Aucher to come around to the Bridge Street entrance in about fifteen minutes to get the money, and that in the meantime he would send his son out to cash a check so that he could deliver it in bills. Aucher spent part of the fifteen minutes signalling to four other special agents who had reinforced him, and then went around to the Bridge Street entrance, with one of his confederates in sight.
In a few moments, Ruroede’s son rushed out with a bank book in his hand. Aucher stopped him and told him he ought to have a coat on, a device to let Aucher’s fellow operative see him talking to the boy so he could identify him. The boy then went on to the bank, followed by Aucher’s confederate, who saw him cash the check and followed him back to the building.
When the boy returned, Aucher again spoke to him and said: “Tell your father I will be in the café at Whitehall and Bridge streets and that he is to meet me there. I don’t think it is a good thing for anybody to see me hanging around the front entrance.”
Aucher then went on into the café and signalled to the other three operatives to follow him. He took a seat in a bootblack’s chair near the entrance and proceeded to have his shoes blacked. In about ten minutes Ruroede’s son came out and was about to pass by him when Aucher hailed him. Ruroede’s son then took a sealed envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to Aucher.
“Where is your father?” Aucher asked.
“Oh, he’s got a man upstairs with him,” said young Ruroede, “and he couldn’t come down.”