United States or Sweden ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Ach! that is bright!" he cried, "oi, oi, oi, but he is smart, this Herr Eichenholz! Who'd have thought of that? Brilliant, brilliant!" "As you say, Herr Kore, enquiry agents must live, and I am quite prepared to pay for the information I require...." I pulled out my portfolio as I spoke. "The matter is quite simple," Kore replied. "It is already arranged. The charge is five hundred marks.
I sent for the Berlin Directory. I turned up the streets section and eagerly ran my eye down the columns of the "A's." I did not find what I was looking for, and that was an "Achilles-Strasse," either with two "l's" or with one. Then I tried "Eichenholz." There was an "Eichenbaum-Allee" in the Berlin suburb called West-End, but that was all.
Old Stick-in-the-mud is a lot shrewder than we think. "'When I read the writing, he told me, 'I think he is all robbish, but then I ask myself, Who shall put robbish in my invoices? And then I read the writing again and once again, and then I see he is a message." "Stop, Dicky!" I cried, "of course, what an ass I am! Why Eichenholz...."
Well, I would accept this as a message from Francis. Now to study it once more. O Eichenholz! O Eichenholz! Wie leer sind deine Blätter. Wie Achiles in dem Zelte. Wo zweie sich zanken Erfreut sich der Dritte. The message fell into three parts, each consisting of a phrase. The first phrase might certainly be a warning that Francis had failed in his mission. "O Okewood! how empty are thy leaves!"
We private enquiry agents must live, my dear sir, we must eat and drink like other men, and these are hard times, very hard times. I will ask you a question if I may. Meyer? Who is Meyer? Everybody in this country is called Meyer!" I smiled at this bizarre speech. "This Eichenholz, now," I said, "... supposing he were my brother."
"Exactly," retorted Dicky, "as the old Mynheer was the first to see, Eichenholz translated into English is 'Oak-tree' or 'Oak-wood' in other words, Francis." "Then, Dicky...." I interrupted. "Just a minute," said Dicky, putting up his hand.
One day a package for old van Urutius came to me to be made up and suddenly it occurred to me that here was a chance of sending out a message to the outside world. I hoped that old van U., if he tumbled to the 'Eichenholz, would send it to you and that you would pass it on to my Chief in London." "Then you expected me to come after you?" I said. "No," replied Francis promptly, "I did not.
Three lines of German, written in fluent German characters in purple ink beneath the name and address of Mynheer van Urutius ... that was all. My heart sank with disappointment and wretchedness as I read the inscription. Here is the document: * Herr Willem van Urutius, Automobilgeschäft, Nymwegen. Alexandtr-Straat 81 bis. Berlin, Iten Juli, 16. O Eichenholz! O Eichenholz!
He returned with a handful of filthy papers. "I oughtn't to do it; I know I shall rue it; but you have overpersuaded me and I liked Herr Eichenholz, a noble gentleman and free with his money see here, the papers of a waiter, Julius Zimmermann, called up with the Landwehr but discharged medically unfit, military pay-book and permis de séjour for fifteen days.
"Ah!" sighed the little Jew, "a man of affairs like myself meets so many people that he may be pardoned.... What did you say his name was, this friend of yours?" I thought I would try the effect of the name "Eichenholz" upon this enigmatic creature. "Eichenholz? Eichenholz?" Kore repeated. "I seem to know the name ... it seems familiar ... now let me see again.... Eichenholz, Eichenholz. ..."
Word Of The Day