Arthur Somers Roche

“ Dilkes, of them all, was the only one who knew that Tenney never played with deadly weapons. Dilkes wanted to be ready.
"This morning," said Tenney, "I saw a man buying wine. Nothing strange about that durin' the racin' season, only—I knew the man's face and didn't know his name. And when I saw his name on a hotel register the name didn't fit the face. Something queer about that, gentlemen.
"I'm not infallible—not by a long shot, but give me face and give me name and I'll remember the time and place where I met the man if it was thirty years ago. ”

“ BUT Tenney did not mail the plans to Itchi Marcy. Tenney was not above changing his mind. In a corner of a quiet café to which he repaired after leaving the Chief's office, Tenney thought.
Tenney was neither a faker nor a bluffer. His confidence when he left the Secretary had not been assumed. He had his own reasons for confidence.
"It's half the battle," he used to say. "If I'm dead sure that I'm going to get what I'm after, I don't have time to think about the possibility of losing out, and if I don't think about losing, well—I don't lose." ”

“ Why, I even know that you own a portable typewriter which you brought in here, lest the print of the office machine be recognized."
The stenographer leaped to his feet.
"I? Own up? For God's sake, Mr. Detective, you don't accuse me of—of betraying my country?"
"You live in one of the most expensive private hotels in the city," snapped Tenney, and your salary is thirty dollars a week. Care to own up? It may make things easier for you!" ”

“ The Secretary stared at the Chief of the Secret Service.
"Are you sure the man is capable?" he asked. "Remember how important the matter is; and he treats it carelessly. He says he knows; he—figures can't lie. Dilkes; figures can't lie!"
"But Tenney said that men can," replied the Chief. ”

“ Half an hour later he entered the fruit store of Itchi Marcy. There happened to be no customers in the store at the moment, and a white clerk was engaged in piling fruit in attractive pyramids. Tenney walked past him and addressed himself to a bright-eyed Japanese who sat at a desk. From an inner pocket the Secret Service man pulled the bundle of plans, in a plain envelope. He laid them on Marcy's desk. ”

“ Shortly he was in possession of the information that James Colwell, clerk in the War Department, lived at an address near Dupont Circle. Tenney's eyebrows were raised. He smiled and bent his steps in the direction of the stenographer's address. It was a private hotel, one of the best. Colwell's entire weekly salary would hardly pay the stenographer's rent, much less clothe and feed him.
"It's a wonder," said Tenney to himself, "that the main guys don't look after their employees more. Trust a man with important, priceless secrets, and never investigate to see what's his manner of living!" ”

“ He was certain that he knew the face of the wine-bibber. Yet in all his wide acquaintance, he had never met a man named Peter Firkins. It was strange; Tenney might see a man and not know his name, yet if the name were mentioned Tenney would always know where to place it. Likewise, if a name were mentioned, and a little later Tenney should see its owner, even the lapse of many years would not cause him hesitation in applying the name to the man. ”

“ But now, as he mused over a bottle of lithia water, some of Tenney's past success-born confidence oozed away from him. The hopeful scientist, on the seeming verge of a great discovery, is brought to recognition of failure by the contemplation of the figures of his last test—for he knows the figures do not lie. ”

“ He examined the typewritten address on the envelope addressed to the Japanese fruiterer. Of course each typewriter had its own distinct identity. But to trace the identity—it wasn't even worth while to examine the machines in the War Department. The man clever enough to effect this treason was not fool enough to use a machine that might be traced. He had probably gone to any one of a hundred places where he might use a machine for a few minutes. It would mean weeks of laborious search to trace the machine. Tenney shook his head ”

“ Tenney flushed.
"It's rather essential, sir, that I come prepared. I'm not a health faddist. I need breakfast before I do anything. And I rather judged from the Chief's message that I'd have to do some thinking."
"Thinking?" cried Dilkes. "Acting, Tenney! Acting at once! Before the last secret of the War Department is given away; before the——"
"Before the United States is laid bare to attack which it can not resist," cried the Secretary. "Before treachery, black treason, has sold away the secrets of our national defenses! ”

“ I then looked up one of the three men who knew of the plans, because he had helped draw them up. Then I arrested the agent of Japan. Then I arrested Davis-Firkins, and he gave himself away. Some one," he drawled, "might as well do a little confessing; it's good for the soul."
For a moment there was a dead silence. Then the Secretary spoke.
"Did the Jap speak? Did the postal clerk confess?"
Tenney shook his head.
"Neither of them; haven't bothered to question them. I know without them. The plans were mailed to Marcy last night—after six! The man who mailed them dreaded discovery ”

“ In some way he tore an envelope open. He told me that, while unusual, such accidents happen once in a while. Well, the contents of the envelope fell out upon the floor. The sorter picked them up to replace them in the envelope. But his eye happened to be struck by a typewritten line across the top of the first page of the contents. And he saw the words, 'Copy of plans for southwestern mobilization.'
"Mr. Tenney, God was kind to the United States in seeing that a man of intelligence was sorting that particular bunch of mail. This mail-sorter is an ambitious man ”

“ But the man who was buying champagne for several other men in a far corner of the dining-room where Tenney breakfasted, piqued the operative's curiosity, for the face was familiar—he had seen the man before. But where? To the waiter serving his coffee, Tenney indicated the purchaser of the bubbling juice of the grape. ”

“ Mr. Secretary, you won't listen to this man's jumble of falsehoods! I—why, I don't know what he's talking about. As for my money—my living at the Allerton, why—you yourself know that my family is wealthy ”