CHAPTER XI
HENDERSON HAS AN INTERVIEW
When, after parting with Mr. Pauling and the boys, Mr. Henderson drovetowards his office, he was in high good humor. The afternoon, thanks tothe boys' radio and Rawlins' diving suits, had been a most eventful andhighly satisfactory one. Not only had the discoveries resulted in theraid on the garage, the seizure of a vast amount of contraband andprobably the breaking up of the gang of rum-runners which for so longhad baffled his men and himself, but it had brought in two prisoners,one of whom at least he had recognized and was mighty glad to see.
But despite all this he was sorely puzzled and cudgeled his brain tofind a reasonable explanation for many things which seemed inexplicable.If, as it seemed, the garage had been a hiding place for smuggledliquor, what connection did it have with the submarine and the diversRawlins had captured? Had the contraband been brought there in theunder-seas boat, and if so how? He knew, as Rawlins had already pointedout, that a submarine could not go in and out of any port--in the WestIndies or elsewhere--without attracting immediate attention, for therewere not many of the craft knocking about and even if the natives of theislands had kept the secret some of the government's agents who werescattered through the West Indies would either have seen or heard of thecraft. Mr. Pauling, for example, had personally been to Cuba and Nassauand while he had seen schooners leave with cargoes only to return emptywithout being reported from any American port, still he had found orheard nothing which would indicate a submarine unless, yes, that mightbe possible--the schooners might have transferred their cargoes to theunder-sea boat in mid-ocean or at some uninhabited island.
But even in that case, the native sailors, the mulattoes and negroes,surely would have talked about it. To them, a submarine would have beenfar too remarkable and interesting a thing not to have told theirwondering cronies and families about it. And where, assuming this wasso, had the bootleggers secured the vessel?
Rawlins had assured him the submarine was a German U-boat of a recenttype, such as had been off the United States coast during the latterdays of the war, but she could not be one of these, for the Navy, heknew, had accounted for them all. Had the Germans taken to rum-running?Had they secretly retained one or more submarines, and, knowing theenormous profits to be made, put them to use carrying cargoes of liquorfrom the West Indies to the United States? Of course this was possible,but somehow Mr. Henderson, who was famed in the Service for his"hunches," which nine-tenths of the time proved right, had a feelingthat there was something deeper, some mystery behind it, and he had highhopes of fathoming this or at least of throwing some light upon it by aninterview with the unharmed prisoner.
That he would obtain a confession or even much information from thefellow, he very much doubted, for he knew the man of old--knew him for asullen, arrogant and thoroughly desperate man and one who could and didkeep his mouth shut under the most severe grilling. Mr. Henderson deeplyregretted that the other prisoner had been injured by inhaling theflames in his helmet, for with two men, each thinking the other hadbetrayed him, there would be a good chance of getting at the bottom ofthings, but it was almost hopeless now. The surgeons had stated that theman was doomed, that he could not possibly survive his terrible burnsand that it was doubtful if he ever regained consciousness. Mr. Paulingwas to be summoned when the wounded man came to his senses, if he everdid, and in the meantime the other prisoner was to be brought before Mr.Henderson by two of his own men whom he had despatched for the purpose,for, while he and Mr. Pauling cooperated with the police in many ways,they had no desire to let the police learn of many matters that weretaking place or hear statements or confessions which they might repeat.
As soon as Mr. Henderson reached his office, where the erstwhile janitorwas on guard, he hurried the latter off and then, taking some documentsfrom a safe and lighting his pipe, he proceeded to study the papers withminute attention. He was interrupted in this by the return of themessenger who was accompanied by a small, wiry, dark-haired man whom Mr.Henderson addressed as "Ivan" and who seated himself in a profferedchair and proceeded to make himself quite at home with an immense blackcigar.
"It's Smernoff!" announced Mr. Henderson presently. "Got him to-dayunder very remarkable circumstances--no matter what. Recognized him atonce although he's shaved off his beard. Examined his mouth and chest tomake sure. I expect him here in a few moments. Do you happen to know ifhe ever served in the German army?"
"Sure, yes, I know," replied the Russian. "Not in the army, no, but thenavy."
"What was his job?" demanded Mr. Henderson.
"That I do not know," replied the other with a shrug of his shoulders.
"H-m-m," muttered Mr. Henderson. "Well, I want you to be here tointerpret. He doesn't speak much English or won't. I guess they'recoming now."
A moment later, there was a rap on the door and the janitor--once more injumper and overalls--left by another entrance and armed with dustpan andbroom proceeded to busy himself in the hallway exactly as if he had notbeen interrupted several hours previously by Frank's excited summons toMr. Pauling.
At Mr. Henderson's "Come in!" two heavily built men in civilian clothesentered, crowding closely one on either side of the sullen man who hadbeen captured by Rawlins.
Not until they had seated themselves at Mr. Henderson's orders would anyone have suspected that the pig-eyed man was a prisoner or washandcuffed. For a space, Mr. Henderson gazed steadily and silently atthe prisoner who returned his stare, hate and venom in his eyes, andthen, turning to Ivan, Mr. Henderson ordered him to ask the fellowcertain questions.
It is not necessary to repeat the conversation, or rather the queriesand replies, and for some time no satisfactory information was broughtout, the captive absolutely refusing to admit anything or to say a wordwhich might incriminate himself or his fellows. But when, after a dealof questioning, Mr. Henderson had Ivan hint that the men captured in theraid on the garage had betrayed the Russian and his fellow diver, theman's face took on a demoniacal expression, his eyes blazed and atorrent of curses and foul oaths burst from his lips.
A moment later, he checked his furious outburst and replied quickly tomany of the interrogations put to him through the interpreter.
It was soon evident, however, that he was either extremely ignorant ofmany matters or else was an accomplished liar, and, while theinformation he gave cleared up many matters which had puzzled Mr.Henderson previously, still the most important and mysterious featuresof the whole case remained as much a mystery as ever.
"I guess that's all we can find out, or all he'll tell," declared Mr.Henderson at last. "Take him away and be mighty careful to have him wellguarded. He's a slippery rascal and we don't want him getting away thistime."
As the men with their prisoner left the room, Ivan rose as if to go.
"Sit down!" Mr. Henderson ordered him. "I may need you again at anyminute. We've got another man to question yet."
Ivan's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he had long been employed as aninterpreter in Mr. Pauling's service and had learned not to askquestions or make comments, no matter how amazing or perplexing a mattermight appear. So, again seating himself comfortably, he lit another ofhis huge cigars and waited patiently and silently for further orders.
Meanwhile Mr. Henderson was going over his hastily written statements ofthe prisoner and with his knowledge of the man's past and his "hunch"was striving to dovetail the information with surmises and records so asto form a complete whole.
It was interesting and fascinating work--this building up a case fromfragments and conjectures--a sort of jig-saw puzzle with many of theparts missing, and Mr. Henderson was an adept at it. Indeed, he oftenspent hours, when he had time to spare, playing the game with imaginaryor hypothetical cases exactly as a person will play a game of solitaire.It was this ability to piece together stray bits of evidence, and hisalmost uncanny intuition, that had secured the high position he held andhad won the envy and admiration of all in the Service who knew him,although his frien
ds good-naturedly chaffed him about his "imagination,"as they called it.
But on more than one occasion his imagination, or intuition or sixthsense or whatever it might be, had brought most astonishing results; as,for example, the capture of a band of plotters; to which he had referredwhen discussing the flood of Bolshevist literature and the wave of crimewith his coworkers.
Now, as he studied his notes of Smernoff's statements and at times halfclosed his eyes as if concentrating on some far-off matter, a smilespread across his features and from time to time he nodded approvingly.
"I'd wager it is," he commented to himself. "Everything points that way.The submarine, Smernoff--a fanatical socialist--those remarkable deep-seasuits--the under-sea radio, the mystery about it all and yes--the timehitches perfectly. Bloody sort of brute he is--wish I could get him forthat--sorry it's out of our hands. Jove! I hope that mate of his liveslong enough to give us what we want. Smernoff admits _he_ knows. ByJove, it would be a coup! Wonder if those boys even dream what theirexperimenting has led up to!"
He was still deeply engrossed in his occupation when the phone bell rangand Mr. Pauling's voice came to him. "He's conscious," said the latter,"Come to the hospital as quickly as possible. Yes, I'm going thisinstant. Of course. Bring Ivan."
"Come along, Ivan!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson, as he hung up the receiver,and grasping his hat he hurried from the room into which the janitorinstantly popped like some sort of automaton.
As soon as the ambulance bearing the injured prisoner had reached thehospital, the man had been taken to a private room and the doctors haddevoted every attention, every latest appliance, every resource known tomodern medicine and surgery to patching the horribly burned anddisfigured fellow up in order to prolong his life until he could regainconsciousness. In the hospital a more thorough examination had revealedthe fact that the interior of his mouth was not so seriously burned ashad been thought when first aid was being administered at the dock.Evidently he had had presence of mind enough to snap off the valve andto shut his lips at the first burst of flames from the chemicals when,startled by the submarine deserting them, he had instinctively cried outa warning to his mate and had allowed water to enter the tube.
"There's about one chance in ten thousand that he may live," announcedthe gray-haired surgeon to his assistant. "He has not inhaled flames andit all depends upon his constitution. The shock was enough to kill anordinary man outright, but it will be no kindness to have him survive.If it were not for Mr. Pauling's orders I'd take the responsibility ofletting him go, I believe. Gad! Can you imagine any one living with aface like that or caring enough to live to undergo the agony that he'llsuffer if he becomes conscious?"
"Not me!" replied the younger man. "I'd think it a Christian act to letcases of this sort find relief in death, but I suppose every man has aright to his life if he wants it. Have any idea why Mr. Pauling's sokeen on having him come to and talk?"
The elder man gazed at his assistant in a peculiar manner.
"No!" he snapped out at last. "And I'm not fool enough to ask or wonder.It's none of our business and I intend to follow orders to the letter.But you can bet it's something important. Just peep outside the door."
With a puzzled expression, the young doctor opened the door cautiouslyand looked to left and right. On either hand, standing silently, butwith watchful eyes, were two heavily built men, dressed in civilianclothes, with soft, dark felt hats on their heads and, even to theintern's unpracticed eyes, detectives.
"Guess there _is_ something doing," he remarked as he closed the door,"couple of Bulls out there. What do they think--that he's going to jumpup and run with that face and with both eyes burned out?"
The other glanced up from where he was bending close above the cot andraised a finger for silence. Then, an instant later, he straightened up.
"Get Mr. Pauling at once!" he commanded. "Tell him the man is liable tobecome conscious at any instant--that he may live, but if he wants to besure he had better come immediately."
In the mean time, at the Pauling home, Tom had been relating his storyof the strange and exciting events which had taken place under theriver.
"Now, Son," said Mr. Pauling, as Tom had thrown himself upon the loungein the library while his mother hovered anxiously over him, "if you feelable, tell us all about it. Rawlins told us the main facts while youwere getting over your fainting spell, but, as many important mattersand far-reaching consequences may result from your discoveries andcaptures, I would like to know all the details. Just as soon as you feeltired, stop. Your health and welfare are the most importantthings--everything else can wait if necessary. I would not ask you now,only I know your mother is anxious to hear the story and, moreover, if Iam called to the hospital, I would like to have as much information aspossible. A lot may hinge on that."
"Oh, I'm quite all right, Dad," Tom assured his father. "Of course I'mtired, but I don't mind talking. In fact I'd like to."
So, for some time, Tom narrated his adventures, beginning with thedescent to test the set at a distance and ending with the crash thatsounded in his ears as he was about to emerge from the water and leavingout no detail of his sensations, thoughts or fears.
"I think it's all quite clear," declared Mr. Pauling when he hadfinished. "I'm sorry I cannot divulge everything to you now or explainall the mysteries which surround the astounding discovery that you boysand Mr. Rawlins have made. But later I can and will, as I know you mustbe dying of curiosity. And I can assure you of one thing: Uncle Sam willbe under a great obligation to you and your radio."
"But you said you'd tell us who the man was whom we captured and whatthey were doing in the garage," Tom reminded him.
"Yes, I can do that," replied his father, "but you two boys must learnto keep secrets and not repeat anything I tell you. The man you andRawlins brought in--the one who was not hurt I mean--is a Russian, arabid 'red,' and Henderson recognized him and later identified himbeyond question by a peculiar tooth and the scar on his chest. At onetime he was convicted of a serious crime against our government, butescaped mysteriously from prison. I doubt very much if we get muchinformation from him, as he knows he must serve out his term--with a bitadded to it--and he is a close-mouthed rascal. We hope more from hiscompanion, if he recovers consciousness and can talk. If he knows he isdying he may confess at the last minute. As far as the garage isconcerned, as you know, we put two and two together and decided theblind sewer had some secret opening in the block where you boys locatedthe mysterious sending set. The fact that both those messages and theconversations you heard under water included the names of flowersconvinced us that they emanated from the same source and as Rawlinsassured us the conversation in what he called Dutch, but which wasprobably Russian, came from the men under water, it confirmed oursuspicions that the man you boys located was talking to men under wateror on the submarine and that somewhere in the block we would find thekey to the mystery and more. From what Murphy says, and the appearanceof things, we succeeded beyond our expectations. I was afraid that therascals might have overheard you and Rawlins or that the submarine,which evidently knew that they were discovered, might have warned them.If so, we moved too quickly for them."
"But _are_ they bootleggers?" asked Frank.
"No doubt," replied Mr. Pauling, "and many other worse things. WhenMurphy and Rawlins arrive we'll probably know more and if the woundedman confesses we'll solve many mysteries which remain to be unraveled."
"Well, I'm mighty glad the old under-sea radio worked," declared Tom,"but I wouldn't go through that experience again, not for--no, not forUncle Sam himself."
At this moment the doorbell rang and a moment later Rawlins dashed intothe room, his eyes bright and a happy grin on his boyish face.
"I'll tell the world it's great!" he exclaimed, "They got pretty neareverything--booze, trucks, men, and that mysterious radio. And atruckload of books and papers--cleaned out a regular nest. That manMurphy is a corker, Mr. Pauling. He said to tell you he'll be over in alittl
e while. They were just cleaning up when I left."
Tom jumped up. "Hurrah!" he cried. "Then we were right all along! Wealways said that fellow was one of a bootlegger gang. Gee, Frank! Theycan't laugh at radio or radio detectives now. It wins!"
"I'll say radio wins!" cried Rawlins.