we were shipping dum-dum bullets to the Allies. We were not, naturally, but that did not prevent his bringing back a few bullets with the jackets carefully notched by a German agent in Bridgeport. We had heard enough of what he had intended to do, and of his disappointment. What had he accomplished? What ships had he blown up? Was he responsible for the five fires in the hold of the _Craigside_ on July 24? No. Did he make the bombs found on the _Arabic_ on July 27? Did he cause the fires on the _Assuncion de Larrinaga_, the _Rotterdam_ or the _Santa Anna_, and did he put a bomb aboard the _Williston_? He did not, he assured me. I showed him the _Kirkoswald_ bomb. “Did you ever see that?” “No,” he answered. “Didn’t you make that?” “I did not,” he replied, and laughed. “That’s a joke. I see now why they sent me over to this country--they wanted someone to make bombs that would do some damage. That’s crude work.” [Illustration: _Copyright, by Underwood and Underwood, N. Y._ The Rudder Bomb A Closer View of the Rudder Bomb] His answer was truthful. We had to admit it for there was absolutely no evidence to connect him with any specific act outside his confession, and we had to find comfort in the fact that he was guilty at least of having intended to continue the reign of terror along the wharves. Bombs had been found or fires had broken out on no less than twenty-two vessels bound out of New York up to the time we closed on Fay--and not one was his prey. He was tried with Scholz and Daeche. The only law then applying to his case, and the one under which he was tried, charged him with “conspiracy to defraud the insurance underwriters” who had insured cargoes on certain ships. When the charge was read to him, Fay innocently asked: “What are underwriters?” He found out. Fay went to Atlanta for eight years, Scholz for six, and Daeche for four. Kienzle and Breitung were not brought to trial and after we went to war were invited to join various other Germans in an internment camp. Fay had been at Atlanta a month when he escaped. German friends gave him clothes and helped him to Baltimore, where Paul Koenig met him and paid him $450, with injunctions to go to San Francisco and get more. For some reason the fugitive feared that there was a plot against his life in San Francisco, although he had protected the “great people,” so instead of going west he fled immediately to Mexico. From there he fled to Spain, and it was not until the summer of 1918 that he was caught there. He was a bold and important criminal in his field, and we were glad to have brought him in. He was not the one we wanted most, not if our sugar theory was sound. The pursuit of Fay had certainly scared that theory up an alley. It was high time we got out of the alley and back into Main Street. VII ALONG THE WATERFRONT II “_Damn Him, Rintelen!_”