when they are important."
"I suppose that has happened now and then," said Lanny, showing a coming on disposition,
but not too much.
"What I should like to have is, not an agent, but a friend; a gentleman, whose sense of honor
I could trust, and who would not be indifferent to the importance of our task in putting down
the Red menace in Germany, and perhaps later wiping out the nest where those vipers are
being incubated. Surely one does not have to be a German in order to approve such an aim."
"I agree with you, Exzellenz." "Call me Göring," commanded the great one. "Perhaps you can
understand how tired one gets of dealing with lackeys and flatterers. You are a man who says
what he thinks, and when I box with you I get some competition."
"Thank you, Ex—Göring."
"I am sure you understand that we Nazis are playing for no small stakes. You are one of the
few who possess imagination enough to know that if you become my friend you will be able to
have anything you care to ask for. I am going to become one of the richest men in the world—
not because I am greedy for money, but because I have a job to do, and that is one of the tools.
We are going to build a colossal industry, which will become the heritage of the future, and
most certainly we are not going to leave it in the hands of Jews or other Bolshevist agencies.
Sooner or later we shall take over the industry of Russia and bring it into line with modern
practices. For all that we need brains and ability. I personally need men who see eye to eye
with me, and I am prepared to pay on a royal scale. There is no limit to what I would do for
a man who would be a real associate and partner."
"I appreciate the compliment, my dear Göring, but I doubt my own qualifications for any
such role. Surely you must have among your own Germans men with special training—"
"No German can do what I am suggesting to you—an American, who is assumed to be above
the battle. You can go into France or England and meet anybody you wish, and execute
commissions of the most delicate sort without waste of time or sacrifice of your own or your
wife's enjoyment. Be assured that I would never ask you to do anything dishonorable, or to
betray any trust. If, for example, you were to meet certain persons in those countries and talk
politics with them, and report on their true attitudes, so that I could know which of them
really want to have the Reds put down and which would rather see those devils entrench
themselves than to see Germany get upon her feet—that would be information almost priceless
to me, and believe me, you would have to do no more than hint your desires. If you would
come now and then on an art-buying expedition to Berlin and visit me in some quiet retreat
like this, the information would be used without any label upon it, and I would pledge you my
word never to name you to anyone."
III
Lanny perceived that he was receiving a really distinguished offer, and for a moment he was
sorry that he didn't like the Nazis. He had a feeling that Irma would be willing for him to say
yes, and would enjoy helping on such international errands. Doubtless the General had invited
her to lunch in order that he might size her up from that point of view.
"My dear Göring," said Irma's husband, "you are paying me a compliment, and I wish I could
believe that I deserve it. To be sure, I sometimes meet important persons and hear their talk
when they are off their guard; I suppose I could have more such opportunities if I sought them.
Also I find Berlin an agreeable city to visit, and if I should run over now and then to watch your
interesting work, it would be natural for you to ask me questions and for me to tell you what
I had heard. But when you offer to pay me, that is another matter. Then I should feel that I
was under obligations; and I have always been a Taugenichts— even before I happened to acquire
a rich wife I liked to flit from one place to another, look at pictures, listen to good music or play
it not so well, chat with my friends, and amuse myself watching the human spectacle. It happens
that I have made some money, but I have never felt that I was earning it, and I would hate to
feel that I had to."
It was the sort of answer a man would make if he wished to raise his price; and how was a
would-be employer to know? "My dear Budd," said the General, in the same cautious style, "the
last thing in the world I desired was to put you under any sense of obligation, or to interfere
with your enjoyments. It is just because of that way of life that you could be of help to me."
"It would be pleasant indeed, Exzellenz, to discover that my weaknesses have become my
virtues."
The great man smiled, but went on trying to get what he wanted.
"Suppose you were to render me such services as happened to amuse you, and which
required no greater sacrifice on your part than to motor to Berlin two or three times a year; and
suppose that some day, purely out of friendship, I should be moved to present you with a
shooting preserve such as this, a matter of one or two hundred square kilometers—surely that
wouldn't have to be taken as a humiliation or indignity."
"Gott behüte!" exclaimed the playboy. "If I owned such a property, I would have to pay
taxes and upkeep, and right away I should be under moral pressure to get some use out of it."
"Can you think of nothing I might do for you?"
Lanny perceived that he was being handled with masterly diplomacy. The General wasn't
saying: "You know I have a hold on you, and this is the way you might induce me to release
it!" He wasn't compelling Lanny to say: "You know that you are holding out on me and not
keeping your promise!" He was making things easy for both of them; and Lanny was surely not
going to miss his chance! "Yes, Göring," he said, quickly, "there is one thing—to have your
wonderful governmental machine make some special effort and find that young son of
Johannes Robin."
"You are still worried about that Yiddisher?"
"How can I help it? He is a sort of relative—my half-sister is married to his brother, and
naturally the family is distressed. When I started out for Berlin to show my Detaze paintings,
I had to promise to do everything in my power to find him. I have hesitated to trouble you
again, knowing the enormous responsibilities you are carrying—"
"But I have already told you, my dear Budd, that I have tried to find the man without
success."
"Yes, but I know how great the confusion of the past few months has been; I know of cases
where individuals and groups have assumed authority which they did not legally possess. If
you want to do me a favor I shall never forget, have one of your staff make a thorough
investigation, not merely in Berlin but throughout the Reich, and enable me to get this utterly
harmless young fellow off my conscience."
"All right," said the Minister-Prasident; "if that is your heart's desire, I will try to grant it. But
remember, it may be beyond my power. I cannot bring back the dead."
IV
Back in Berlin, Lanny and his wife went for a drive and talked out this new development.
"Either he doesn't trust me," said Lanny, "or else I ought to hear from him very soon."
"He must pretend to make an investigation," put in Irma.
"It needn't take long to discover a blunder. He can say: 'I am embarrassed to discover that my
supposed-to-be-efficient organization has slipped up. Your friend was in Dachau all along and
I have ordered him brought to Berlin.' If he doesn't do that, it's because he's not satisfied with
my promises."
"Maybe he knows too much about you, Lanny."
"That is possible; but he hasn't given any hint of it."
"Would he, unless it suited his convenience? Freddi is his only hold on you, and he knows
that. Probably he thinks you'd go straight out of Germany and spill the story of Johannes."
"That story is pretty old stuff by now. Johannes is a poor down-and-out, and I doubt if
anybody could be got to take much interest in him. The Brown Book is published and he isn't
in it."
"Listen," said the wife; "this is a question which has been troubling my mind. Can it be that
Freddi has been doing something serious, and that Göring knows it, and assumes that you
know it?"
"That depends on what you mean by serious. Freddi helped to finance and run a Socialist
school; he tried to teach the workers a set of theories which are democratic and liberal. That's
a crime to this Regierung, and people who are guilty of it are luckier if they are dead."
"I don't mean that, Lanny. I mean some sort of plot or conspiracy, an attempt to overthrow
the government."
"You know that Freddi didn't believe in anything of the sort. I've heard him say a thousand
times that he believed in government by popular consent, such as we have in America, and such
as the Weimar Republic tried to be—or anyhow, was supposed to be."
"But isn't it conceivable that Freddi might have changed after the Reichstag fire, and after
seeing what was done to his comrades? It wouldn't have been the Weimar Republic he was
trying to overthrow, but Hitler. Isn't it likely that he and many of his friends changed their
minds?"
"Many did, no doubt; but hardly Freddi. What good would he have been? He shuts his eyes
when he aims a gun!"
"There are plenty of others who would do the shooting. What Freddi had was money—scads
of it that he could have got from his father. There were the months of March and April—and
how do you know what he was doing, or what his comrades were planning and drawing him
into?"
"I think he would have told us about it, Irma. He would have felt in honor, bound."
"He might have been in honor bound the other way, he couldn't talk about those comrades. It
might even be that he didn't know what was going on, but that others were using him. Some of
those fellows I met at the school—they were men who would have fought back, I know. Ludi
Schultz, for example—do you imagine he'd lie down and let the Nazi machine roll over him?
Wouldn't he have tried to arouse the workers to what they call 'mass action'? And wouldn't his
wife have helped him? Then again, suppose there was some Nazi agent among them, trying to
lure them into a trap, to catch them in some act of violence so that they could be arrested?"
"The Nazis don't have to have any excuses, Irma; they arrest people wholesale."
"I'm talking about the possibility that there might be some real guilt, or at any rate a charge
against Freddi. Some reason why Göring would consider him dangerous and hold onto him."
"The people who are in the concentration camps aren't those against whom they have
criminal charges. The latter are in the prisons, and the Nazis torture them to make them betray
their associates; then they shoot them in the back of the neck and cremate them. The men
who are in Dachau are Socialist politicians and editors and labor leaders—intellectuals of all
the groups that stand for freedom and justice and peace."
"You mean they're there without any charge against them?" "Exactly that. They've had no
trial, and they don't know what they're there for or how long they're going to stay. Two or
three thousand of the finest persons in Bavaria—and my guess is that Freddi has done no more
than any of the others."
Irma didn't say any more, and her husband knew the reason—she couldn't believe what he
said. It was too terrible to be true. All over the world people were saying that, and would go on
saying it, to Lanny's great exasperation.
V
The days passed, and it was time for the Munich opening, and still nobody had called to
admit a blunder on the part of an infallible governmental machine. Lanny brooded over the
problem continually. Did the fat General expect him to go ahead delivering the goods on credit,
and without ever presenting any bill? Lanny thought: "He can go to hell! And let it be soon!"
In his annoyance, the Socialist in disguise began thinking about those comrades whom he had
met at the school receptions. Rahel had given him addresses, and in his spare hours he had
dropped in at place after place, always taking the precaution to park his car some distance
away and to make sure that he was not followed. In no single case had he been able to find the
persons, or to find anyone who would admit knowing their whereabouts. In most cases people
wouldn't even admit having heard of them. They had vanished off the face of the Fatherland.
Was he to assume that they were all in prisons or concentration camps? Or had some of them
"gone underground"? Once more he debated how he might find his way to that nether region—
always being able to get back to the Hotel Adlon in time to receive a message from the second in
command of the Nazi government!
Irma went to àthé dansant at the American Embassy, and Lanny went to look at some
paintings in a near-by palace. But he didn't find anything he cared to recommend to his
clients, and the prices seemed high; he didn't feel like dancing, and could be sure that his wife
had other partners. His thoughts turned to a serious-minded young "commercial artist" who
wore large horn-rimmed spectacles and hated his work—the making of drawings of abnormally
slender Aryan ladies wearing lingerie, hosiery, and eccentric millinery. Also Lanny thought about
the young man's wife, a consecrated soul, and an art student with a genuine talent. Ludwig
and Gertrude Schultz —there was nothing striking about these names, but Ludi and Trudi
sounded like a vaudeville team or a comic strip.
Lanny had phoned to the advertising concern and been informed that the young man was no
longer employed there. He had called the art school and learned that the former student was
no longer studying. In neither place did he hear any tone of cordiality or have any information
volunteered. He guessed that if the young people had fled abroad they would surely have sent a
message to Bienvenu. If they were "sleeping out" in Germany, what would they be doing?
Would they go about only at night, or would they be wearing some sort of disguise? He could
