Espionage, German -- United States -- Fiction; Germans -- United States -- Fiction; Spy stories
"I've been careful," the Baroness told Dollings "to gain my information
only in snatches and bits from munition workers who have come here
to have their fortunes told. The fools do not realize that they tell
me more than I tell them and none have suspected that they are being
questioned. I have learned that the plant is least guarded between
midnight and 2 o'clock in the morning. That will be the best time,
then, for you to plant your bomb. I will take you to a point near
the guncotton plant and leave you there. Then I will proceed at once
to Richmond to join Von Lertz and Madam Stephan. Report to me there
at the hotel." With a caution gained by long experience in plotting
they covered each detail and arranged for any possible and unforeseen
happenings to their own satisfaction.
Early one morning before the darkness and chill of night had lifted
they climbed into an automobile and drove to the point agreed upon.
There Dollings left the Baroness and she drove off through the black of
the night to report to Von Lertz in Richmond.
The yards of the guncotton plant were surrounded by an underbrush
which in the quietness of the night made a silent approach somewhat
difficult. Dollings, however, crept forward as noiselessly as was
within his power. A heavy detonating bomb concealed in his coat, made
progress somewhat perilous. He had almost reached the fence. Suddenly
his coat caught on an entangling thorn bush. As his next movement
loosened it the bush cracked back with a distinct snap! Dollings
stopped.
"Halt!" a challenge rang out in the night.
The guard ran toward the sound. There was little chance for escape.
He had seen the shadowy form of Dollings skulking through the
under-growth. Dollings clambered to his feet in a desperate dash for
freedom but the flash of a rifle spat through the darkness and he felt
a sharp pain in his leg. Crashing about, stumbling, tripping, fighting
his way, he limped on, clinging to the bomb in his coat.
The rifle spoke again and this time Dollings dropped the bomb with
an oath as the bullet passed through his wrist. A little closer and
it would have exploded the bomb and he would have given up his life.
Dollings did not want to die yet. He dropped the bomb, dodging and
leaping, pain fighting at his throat in an endeavor to make him shriek,
he plunged into the darkness of the night and escaped.
Aroused by the shots the guards were gathering at the point of the
sudden alarm. The ground was being examined closely, guards walked
back and forth beating about in the underbrush. In a moment the bomb
was discovered, dropped where Dollings had left it in his flight.
The discovery of the blood spattered bomb and the attempt upon the
factory was reported at once. A message went to Washington. From
Washington a message went to Harrison Grant at the Criminology Club.
And Harrison Grant having received the message lost no time in getting
to Hopewell. The Secret Service needed him there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account