"Can you operate a typewriter?" asked Mr. Herrmann after conducting the new employe through one large and several smaller work-rooms under his superintendence.
"With two fingers," Irving replied with a smile.
"Learned it at home, eh? Well, you won't need a lot of speed. I understand your education in German is not very far advanced."
"Not very far," the spy replied.
"Can you read the script?"
"Yes, I can work it out. I know the letters, but they come to me rather slowly."
"You'll make it all right after a few days' practice. I'm going to set you at work first copying some translated cipher messages." (The boy's heart began to thump eagerly, but the thumping became a weaker reflex pattering as the superintendent continued.) "They don't amount to much. We get masses of indifferent material from numerous sources, but we keep it all carefully cataloged, indexed, and cross-indexed several times. Any little insignificant item of information may be worth a good deal to us at any time. That's one secret of the great value of the German spy system. Now I'll leave you with this budget of communications and let you work it out with your own intelligence. That's one way we have of finding out what a man is worth."
Irving longed to ask him how he protected such an intricate system of concentrated information from leaks that might be of value to the enemy, but wisely refrained.
"I'll find that out by keeping my eyes and ears open," he told himself. "I mustn't ask any questions except such as bear directly on my duties and are calculated to promote my efficiency."
He sat down at the desk assigned to him and was soon diligently, eagerly at work. His eagerness, however, was a well-camouflaged secret.