“Move your right hand again the fraction of an inch and I will shoot, Excellenz,” said Hammersley, in the sharp, quick accents of a resolute man. Von Stromberg only smiled more broadly. But he did not move. He had seen enough of Herr Hammersley to respect his sincerity. “I have staked my professional reputation upon your presence elsewhere, Herr Hammersley. Instinct, perhaps, led me here. I do not know what else. But I came alone. I am not armed.” Hammersley was in no mood for trifling and time was flying. Better to shoot the man and be done with it, but he couldn’t, somehow. Instead he searched him quickly for weapons. “You’re too late, Excellenz. I am sorry, but I have no time for conversation.” “You will at least let me pay you the compliment of saying that the Prussian blood in you has made you the most brilliant Englishman I have ever met.” “I have no time to match phrases with you----” “_Ach_, but you match what is much more important--a genius for dissimulation. Yesterday you disappointed me, Herr Hammersley, with your talk of plans--of fortifications--of Strassburg. I had been hoping that you were playing a deeper game, something that would relieve the flat monotony of my routine. You were to save me from utter boredom. It is true. I had hoped that. I was disappointed when I thought that you were like the others. Disappointed! I should have known----” “And now that I have the papers--what are you going to do about it?” asked Hammersley with a touch of bravado. Von Stromberg shrugged. “I confess that I am so rapt in admiration of your genius that I am at a loss--I must yield to the inevitable. But I am happy in the knowledge that only a person of the skill of Herr Hammersley could have succeeded in outwitting the head of the Secret Service Department of the Empire.” “Enough of this!” Hammersley broke in. “I should kill you, General von Stromberg, but I won’t if you obey me promptly. Stand aside--over there--against the wall. If you move, I’ll shoot. I’m going out of here.” Von Stromberg did as he was bidden, and his long strides and erect carriage had lost none of their dignity. When he reached the wall he turned with a smile. Then he said suavely: “I fear, Herr Hammersley, that you will not go forth as rapidly as you like.” Hammersley only laughed at him. “We’ll see about that.” He took a stride to the canvas curtain and had a quick look outside. And then to the girl: “Crank her, Doris! The compressed air--the button to the left beside the wheel!” There was a long pause when Doris reached forward in her seat. A pause filled with meanings for Hammersley, in which his fate and hers, was hanging in the balance. Von Stromberg seemed to read his thoughts, and the wolfish smile spread again over his face. “It is just possible,” he said blandly, “that someone may have been tinkering with the machinery.” There was another long silence--a moment of agony for Hammersley. “Yes, _I_ have,” roared Hammersley exultantly.