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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Dashed if I don't believe we're giving them the slip!" he exclaimed. "I wonder why in thunder they're letting us off like this! The captain must have known something." Jocelyn Thew turned around and looked reflectively at the speaker. For a single moment Crawshay's muscles tingled with the apprehension of danger.
In Katharine's face there was nothing but blank bewilderment, in Crawshay's something of horror, in the detective's a faint gleam of triumph. He pressed his finger down on the heading of the first sheet of paper. "I am not much of a German scholar," he observed. "How do you translate that, Mr. Crawshay?" Crawshay was silent for several moments.
Dix," the captain asked him, "can you tell me if you have received any wireless message intended for any one of the passengers at or since three o'clock this morning?" "Not one, sir." Crawshay's smile was beatific and triumphant. He relit his cigarette which had gone out, and, crossing his legs, made himself a little more comfortable.
"There's nothing to be hired that could catch her." Crawshay's hand had suddenly stolen to his chin. There was a queer light in his eyes. He clutched at his companion's arm. "You're wrong, Hobson," he exclaimed. "There is! Come right along with me. We can talk as we go." "Are you crazy?" the American demanded. "Not quite," the other answered. "Hurry up, man." "Where to?" "To New Jersey.
At a quarter to eight that evening, a young man who had made fitful appearances in the lounge of Claridge's Restaurant during the last half-hour went to the telephone and rang up a certain West End number. "Are these Mr. Crawshay's rooms?" he asked. "Mr. Crawshay speaking," was the reply. "Brightman there?" Crawshay turned away from the telephone and handed the receiver to the detective.
"You'll have to pay for it afterwards, you fellows, I can tell you that." They accepted his decision in silence, and a few minutes later they descended outside the little block of flats in which Crawshay's rooms were situated.
At present I am more interested in your operations of to-night. You are signalling the information of our whereabouts for some definite reason. What is it? Were you trying to pick up the Blucher?" "I wasn't trying to pick up anybody," the young man faltered. Crawshay's fingers gripped him by the shoulder. His very determined-looking mouth had suddenly become a ring of steel.
She can hear our engines distinctly." "Who does the captain think she is, then?" Crawshay's voice was dropped to a mysterious pitch, but though he leaned towards the girl, his eyes were fixed upon her companion. "He doesn't go as far as to express a definite opinion, but he thinks that it might be that German raider the Blucher, isn't it?
Then in a perfectly mechanical tone he read out the heading: "'List of our agents in New York and district who may be absolutely trusted for any enterprise." There was another dead silence, a silence, on Katharine's part, of complete mental paralysis. Crawshay's face had lost all its smooth petulance. He was like a man who had received a blow.
He rose slowly to his feet. "I know that you mean to be kind," she continued, "and I fear that I must seem very ungrateful. Believe me, I am not. I am simply faced with one of those terrible problems which must be solved, and yet which admit of no help from any living person." Crawshay's attitude had grown perceptibly stiffer.
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