“And when you got it to Sir Richard—the key was missing?â€�
She laid her hand over his left overcoat pocket. “You’ve finished what I couldn’t,� she said.
Fay leaned back. He listened, then drew out his cigarette-case and selected a cigarette. She watched him intently.
“It’s after six o’clock,� he said as he struck a match. “See, it’s cracking dawn everywhere. The fog will go and leave us sitting in the open. Suppose we plant the bags, walk ashore, and try the north bank of the Schwartz Canal for a ship out of Holland. We don’t care where it goes, if it gets us to England.�
“It would be better for me to look for MacKeenon and give him the package. He will give us a receipt which you can show to Sir Richard. That receipt will free you from the five years hanging over your head, Chester.�
“I don’t play the game that way!� he said, rising and staring down at her. “I’ll be my own messenger.
I was sent after a thing, and I got it. That hound, MacKeenon, might claim the credit. He might say I fell down on the job. He’s looking for a reputation.�
She realized that he was not to be moved from his purpose. Her eyes blazed defiance as she sprang up.
“Have it your own way!â€� she said. “But, Chester, you’re foolish! Don’t you know that Germany would give a million pounds out of the Spandau Tower—to keep England and the States from solving the cipher? It means Germany’s financial ruin in the dye industries. The world learned how to make potash, during the war—it hasn’t learned how to make good dyes cheaply. The whole thing is in that cipher.â€�
“I saw it, Saidee. There were hundreds and hundreds of sheets of paper with letters on them. The letters seemed to be grouped—three to a group.â€�