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Updated: May 14, 2025
This afternoon I sent Hildebrand off to fetch nurse Boldt from Berlin in a great hurry. I hope you will not postpone your journey now; but earnestly beg dear mother not to make the trip in an exhausting manner. I know, of course, that she has little regard for her own health, but just for Johanna's sake you must take care of yourself, dear mother, so that she may not be anxious on your account.
"Yes; in cash, right here." "No banks?" "We like it better like that in cash." Boldt, like Dieckhoff, had been a marine engineer on the North German Lloyd. He went to work in the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1931. When the cruiser "Honolulu" made its trial run in the spring of 1938, Boldt was on board.
I assume they did not know that I understood, for Boldt passed off her comment as if he had not heard it and said casually, "Oh, twenty-five dollars a month." "You earn forty dollars a week at the Navy Yard, pay for your son's schooling in Germany, clothes, etc., and you and your wife took more than a month's trip to Germany last year. How do you do it on forty a week?"
Boldt, the manager of the hotel, had placed a suite of rooms at my disposal without money and without price. He treated me most cordially; never referred to the outrageous things I had said about his tavern; assured me that he enjoyed my writings, and told me of the pleasure he had in welcoming me. Thus did he heap hot cinders upon my occiput. The Astor gallery seats eight hundred people.
He thought he recognized the clean-cut Blossom Kane, the black-bearded giant Boldt, the red-faced Panhandle Smith, and Fletcher. There was another man strange to him. Was that Knell? No! it could not have been Knell. Duane leaned over the seat and touched Longstreth on the shoulder. "Look!" he whispered. Cheseldine was stiff. He had already seen.
Of all that goes on in his big plantation no man has a better knowledge. Without their personal honesty, he follows every detail of the "business" of his rubber farm with the same diligence that made rich men of George Boldt and Marshall Field.
His wife giggled a little in the adjoining room. Boldt shrugged his shoulder without answering. "The cheapest the two of you could do it, third class, would be about seven hundred dollars. Where do you have your bank account?" "No. No bank account," his wife interrupted sharply. "All the money is kept here, right here in this house," he laughed. "You saved all that money in cash?"
"Poggin, Blossom Kane, Panhandle Smith, Boldt, Jim Fletcher, and another man I don't know. These are the picked men of Cheseldine's gang. I'll bet they'll be the fastest, hardest bunch you rangers ever faced." "Poggin that's the hard nut to crack! I've heard their records since I've been in Val Verde. Where's Knell? They say he's a boy, but hell and blazes!" "Knell's dead."
Though he had not been in Germany for ten years, he suddenly got enough money last year to go there and to send his son to school at a Nazi academy. Boldt, too, has no bank account. He needed a minimum of seven hundred dollars for his wife and himself to cross third class, but the Dies Committee was not interested in where the money for the trip had come from.
Poggin entered the vestibule first, with Kane on one side, Boldt on the other, a little in his rear. As he strode in he saw Duane. "HELL'S FIRE!" he cried. Something inside Duane burst, piercing all of him with cold. Was it that fear? "BUCK DUANE!" echoed Kane. One instant Poggin looked up and Duane looked down. Like a striking jaguar Poggin moved. Almost as quickly Duane threw his arm.
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