"I'll see again, Mr. Waite," said the secretary. He returned presently to say that the foreman had told Harker to report to Potter, that the man had left his machine to do so, and was not now to be found. "Find that man," Potter said, sharply. "What do you want of me?" Downs asked, when the secretary hastened out to carry Potter's orders. "I've found the man who bosses the German agents in this plant!" "This Harker?" "Yes." "And you sent a messenger to tell him to report to you?" "Yes." "Mr. Waite, you're some manufacturer. I'll admit that, but you're a hell of a detective." "I don't get you." "You might as well have sent him a card saying, 'I suspect you--Skedaddle.'" "You think he's taken fright?" "I know it.... Your telephone." Downs called a number. "Look up the address in your records of a man named Harker," he said into the receiver. "We want him. He just left the plant here.... Get him." He turned to Potter. "Now," he said, "suppose you let me in on this. It's rather in my line of work, you know." "I suppose I should have come to you at once--but I didn't. Here's what I've got.... I have reason to suspect that a man named William Cantor is the chief of the German agents in this section. I believe his real name is Adolf von Arnheim, and he is an officer in the German army--an aviator. One of his paymasters is a chauffeur named Philip who works for Herman von Essen. Last night I saw this Philip turn over funds to Harker and another man. There you are." "Good work. No time to ask how you got it. Where does this Cantor hang out?" Potter gave the address of Cantor's office. "I never did know what his business was." "Can we have a car--quick?" "Come on." They hastened out of the main building and to the garage where the company's officials kept their cars. Potter's runabout was there. "Pile in," he said. "Where to?" "Cantor's office." Potter shot out of the archway and whirled down-town through the clear, chilly December air. He did not stop for corners or traffic officers, but, keeping his knee against the horn button, gave the car all he could give it--and Downs clung to his seat and prayed. They drew up abruptly before the entrance to the building where Cantor maintained an office, and sprang out. The elevator carried them to the seventh floor. "The thing is to get in without scaring whoever is there," said Downs. "In this case the papers filed there are as valuable, more valuable, than the men. We must give them no time to destroy anything." Good fortune was with them. As they approached Cantor's door a man opened it and was about to step into the corridor. Downs stepped forward quickly. "I beg your pardon," he said, "but can you tell me where James W. Rogers's office is?" The man stood with the door half opened behind him. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I never heard the name."