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Weintraub said there were a lot of old books in it for a friend of his. It's very heavy." "Look here," said Roger, and his voice rang sharply. "This is important. I don't want you to touch that suitcase. Leave it wherever it is, and DON'T TOUCH IT. Promise me." "Yes, Mr. Mifflin. Had I better put it in a safe place?" "Bock's sniffing at it now." "Don't touch it, and don't let Bock touch it.
He took the foremost seat in the second coach, and peering occasionally through the glass doors he could see the bald poll of his quarry wreathed with exhalements of cheap havana. Secondly, he had hoped to see Weintraub on the same train, but though he had tarried at the train-gate until the last moment, the German had not appeared.
"Well," he said angrily, "here you are!" Roger looked up from his book good-humouredly. Apparently, in the zeal of his favourite pastime, he had forgotten where he was. "Hullo!" he said. "What are you doing in Brooklyn? Look here, here's a copy of Tooke's Pantheon " "What's the idea?" cried Aubrey harshly. "Are you trying to kid me? What are you and Weintraub framing up here in Philadelphia?"
Even out of this mass of clerklings emerged two or three who were interesting: Sam Weintraub, a young, active, red-headed, slim-waisted Jew, who was born in Brooklyn. He smoked large cigars with an air, knew how to wear his clothes, and told about playing tennis at the Prospect Athletic Club.
"He asked for the book, and to my surprise, it wasn't there." "No: for the excellent reason that Weintraub had taken it some days before, to measure it so he could build his infernal machine to fit, and also to have it rebound. He needed the original binding as a case for his bomb. The following night, as you told me, it came back.
I've got that old .22 popgun of mine that I used to use up at camp. I'll take it along. I'd like to know more about Weintraub's drug store, too. I didn't fancy the map of Herr Weintraub, not at all. To tell the truth, I had no idea old man Carlyle would get mixed up in anything as interesting as this." He found a romantic exhilaration in packing a handbag.
I'm quite able to take care of myself, thank you. This isn't a movie." "Well, how do you explain the actions of this man Weintraub?" said Aubrey. "Do you like to have a man popping in and out of the shop at all hours of the night, stealing books?" "I don't have to explain it at all," said Titania. "I think it's up to you to do the explaining.
"She says Weintraub left a suitcase of books there to be called for. What do you make of that?" "For the love of God, tell her not to touch those books." "Hullo?" said Roger. Aubrey, leaning over him, noticed that the little bookseller's naked pate was ringed with crystal beads. "Hullo?" replied Titania's elfin voice promptly. "Did you open the suitcase?" "No. It's locked. Mr.
Weintraub had picked out this shop not only because it was as unlikely as any place on earth to be suspected as a channel of spy codes, but also because he had your confidence and could drop in frequently without arousing surprise. The first time Metzger came here happened to be the night I dined with you, as you remember." Roger nodded.
According to her, as soon as it was announced that the President would go to the Peace Conference, Weintraub made up his mind to get a bomb into the President's cabin on board the George Washington. Mrs. Weintraub tried to dissuade him from it, as she was in secret opposed to these murderous plots of his, but he threatened to kill her if she thwarted him. She lived in terror of her life.
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