"Oh, Harrison Grant!" He turned and looked up into the glad eyes of Dixie Mason. "See what I've brought you," she said, pointing at the cringing figure of the now completely cowed Dollings. She was standing on the running board of the car. Grant walked up to the car with a smile at Dixie. Dollings drew back with a snarl of hatred as Grant touched him on the shoulder. "Seems to me you and I have met before," said the president of the Criminology Club, "But I can't just place you." "Don't you remember?" Dixie laughed, leaning toward him. "It's Dollings, our good-natured undertaker from Exeter. He dealt in caskets up there you know, but the boxes they came in held guns instead of coffins. A very nice man if he had stuck to his trade, but changing it got him into trouble. You'd better search him." Dollings helpless, cowed, beaten, was beyond resistance. Their careful search revealed that, after all, the destruction of Hopewell was but an item compared with the general plan of which Dollings was an agent. With an exclamation, Grant turned over a paper to Dixie Mason, to read. "Here Dixie, this is your case, and here's a little lexicon of destruction that may be helpful to you." Dixie took the paper and studied it, horror whitening her face. On it was written: "Blow up plants at Hopewell Wilmington Chester West Philadelphia Acton Detroit Windsor." As she looked into Grant's face, he smiled down at her. "After all, Hopewell has had its advantages," he said. "How?" she questioned. Grant pointed to Dollings. "It has caused the arrest of this man, and will either cause Imperial Germany to change all its plans or give the Secret Service a chance to guard against the attempts on the places named on this list. It may do even more----" Dixie looked at him thoughtfully. "If it could only awaken America to the danger that is growing here in her very heart," she said earnestly, "then indeed the destruction here would not have been in vain." And though Harrison Grant and Dixie Mason, and all the members of the great organization they represented knew that the danger of Germany's intrigues was a vast, far-reaching, fast growing one, even they did not know the immensity of it. While they exulted over the partial failure of one of those schemes of destruction, Von Papen, Boy-Ed, and Dr. Heinrich Albert were at work on still another--and greater one. In the rooms of the Hohenzollern Club they set in conversation one afternoon. "Von Papen, Count Von Bernstorff complains constantly about the regular shipment of troops and supplies from Canada," said Albert turning to the military attache. "What are we to do about it? He has asked me several times for a plan." Von Papen blew a line of smoke rings into the air thoughtfully, and broke the ashes from his cigar. Then he spoke.