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awakened, I don't know how, and lying in the dark I distinctly heard a voice saying: 'Freddi is

in Dachau.' I waited a long time, thinking he might appear, or that I might hear more, but

nothing happened. I had no reason to think of Dachau-it seems a very unlikely place—so

naturally I am interested to follow it up and see if I am what they call 'psychic' "

Hugo agreed that he, too, would be interested; his interest increased when Lanny slipped

several hundred-mark notes into his pocket, saying, with a laugh: "My mother and stepfather

have paid much more than this to spiritualist mediums to see if they could get any news of our

friend."

IV

Hugo also had been to the Parteitag. To him it was not merely a marvelous demonstration

of loyalty, but a call to every Parteigenosse to see that the loyalty was not wasted. Those million

devoted workers gave their services without pay, because they had been promised a great

collective reward, the betterment of the lot of the common man in Germany. But so far they

had got nothing; not one of the promised economic reforms had been carried out, and indeed

many of the measures which had been taken were reactionary, making the reforms more remote

and difficult. The big employers had got a commanding voice in the control of the new shop

councils—which meant simply that wages would be frozen where they were, and the workers

deprived of all means of influencing them. The same was true of the peasants, because prices were

being fixed. "If this continues," said Hugo, "it will mean a slave system, just that and nothing

else."

To Lanny it appeared that the young sports director talked exactly like a Social-Democrat;

he had changed nothing but his label. He insisted that the rank and file were of his way of

thinking, and that what he called the "Second Revolution" could not be more than a few weeks

off. He pinned his hopes upon Ernst Rohm, Chief of Staff and highest commander of the

S.A., who had been one of the ten men tried for treason and imprisoned after the Beer- hall

Putsch; a soldier and fighter all his life, he had become the hero of those who wanted the

N.S.D.A.P. to remain what it had been and to do what it had promised to do. The Führer must

be persuaded, if necessary he must be pushed; that was the way it was in politics—it was no

drawing-room affair, but a war of words and ideas, and if need be of street demonstrations,

marching, threats. None knew this better than Hitler himself.

Lanny thought: "Hugo is fooling himself with the Chief of Staff, as earlier he fooled himself

with the Führer." Ernst Rohm was a homosexual who had publicly admitted his habits; an ignorant

rough fellow who rarely even pretended to social idealism. When he denounced the

reactionaries who were still in the Cabinet, it was because he wanted more power for his

Brownshirts and their commander. But it wasn't Lanny's business to hint at this; he must find

out who the malcontents were—and especially whether any of them were in power at Dachau.

Such men want money for their pleasures, and if they are carrying on a struggle for power they

want money for that. There might be a good chance of finding one who could be paid to let a

prisoner slip through the bars.

Their conference was a long one, and their drive took them into the country; beautiful level

country, every square foot of it tended like somebody's parlor. No room for a weed in the

whole of the Fatherland, and the forests planted in rows like orchards and tended the same way.

It happened to be Saturday afternoon, and the innumerable lakes around Berlin were gay with

tiny sailboats, the shores lined with cottages and bathhouses. The tree-lined paths by the roads

were full of Wandervogel, young people hiking—but it was all military now, they wore S.A.

uniforms and their songs were of defiance. Drill-grounds everywhere, and the air full of sharp

cries of command and dust of tramping feet. Germany was getting ready for something. If you

asked what, they would say "defense," but they were never clear as to who wished to attack them

—right after signing a solemn pact against the use of force in Europe.

Another way in which Hugo resembled the Social-Democrats rather than the Nazis—he hated

militarism. He said: "There are two ways the Führer can solve the problem of unemployment;

one is to put the idle to work arid make plenty for all, including themselves; the other is to

turn them over to the army, to be drilled and sent out to take the land and resources of other

peoples. That is the question which is being decided in the inner circles right now."

"Too bad you can't be there!" remarked Lanny; and his young friend revealed what was in the

depths of his mind. "Maybe I will be some day."

V

Seine Exzellenz, Minister-Präsident General Göring, was pleased to invite Mr. and Mrs. Lanny

Budd to lunch at his official residence. He didn't ask them to bring their paintings, and Lanny

wasn't sorry about it, for somehow he couldn't see the Sister of Mercy in company with a lion

cub. He doubted very much if Seine Exzellenz was being deceived as to the real reason for

Lanny's coming to Berlin; and anyhow, the' Commander of the German Air Force was having his

own art made to his own order—a nude statue of his deceased wife, made from photographs

and cast in solid gold!

At least that was what the Fürstin Donnerstein had told Irma. There was no stopping the

tongues of these fashionable ladies; the Fürstin had poured out the "dirt," and Irma had

collected it and brought it home. The good-looking blond aviator named Göring, after being

wounded in the Beerhall Putsch, had fled abroad and married a Swedish baroness; the lady was

an epileptic and her spouse a morphia addict. There could be no doubt about either of these

facts, for they had been proved in court when the baroness was refused custody of her son by a

former marriage. Later on, the lady had died of tuberculosis, and Göring, returning to Germany,

had chosen Thyssen and the former Crown Prince for his cronies, and the steel king's sister for

his "secretary"; the quotation marks were indicated by the Fürstin's tone as she said the last

word. It had been assumed that he would marry this Anita Thyssen, but it hadn't come off;

perhaps he had become too great—or too fat! At the moment Anita was "out," and the "in"

was Emmy Sonnemann, a blond Nordic Valkyrie who acted at the State Theater and could

have any role she chose. "But that doesn't exclude other "Damen" added the serpent's tongue of

Fürstin Donnerstein. "Vorsicht, Frau Budd!"

So Irma learned a new German word.

VI

The utility king's daughter had lived most of her life in marble halls, and wasn't going to be

awed by the livery of Göring's lackeys or the uniforms of his staff and self. The lion cub was

not for ladies, it appeared—and she didn't miss him. The great ebony table with gold curtains

behind it was really quite stunning; they made Irma think of Dick Oxnard's panels, and she

couldn't see why Lanny had made fun of them. Pink jackets and white silk pumps and

stockings for footmen—yes, but hardly in the daytime; and the General's medals seemed more

suited to a state dinner than a private luncheon.

However, the ex-aviator was very good company; he spoke English well, and perhaps wanted

to prove it. He did most of the talking, and laughed gaily at his own jokes. There was nobody

else present but Furtwaengler and another staff officer, and needless to say they laughed at the

jokes and didn't tell any of their own. Apparently it was a purely social affair; not a word about

ransoms or hostages, Jews or concentration camps. No need for Lanny to say: "I hope you have

noticed, Exzellenz, that I have kept my agreement." The fact that he was here, being served cold-

storage plovers' eggs and a fat squab was proof enough that he had kept it and that his host

had made note of the fact.

The assumption was that the holder of eight or ten of the most responsible positions in the

"Third Reich" enjoyed nothing so much as sipping brandy and chatting with two idle rich

Americans; it was up to Lanny to play his role, and let it come up quite by accident that he and

his wife had visited Lausanne in the early days of the Conference on Arms Limitation, and

could tell inside stories about the prominent personalities there, including the German. This

led to the mention that Lanny had been on the American staff at Paris, and had met many of

the men, and had helped a German agent to escape to Spain. He knew leading members of

several of the French parties, including Daladier, the Premier, and he had visited in the homes

of some of the British Foreign Office set—yes, there could be no doubt that he was a young man of

exceptional opportunities, and could be very useful to a Reichsminister without Portfolio if he

happened to be well disposed! Not a word was spoken, but always there was floating in the air

the thought: "Why not take a chance, Exzellenz, and turn loose my Jewish Schieber-sohn?"

VII

Herr Reichsminister Joseph Goebbels was so gracious as to indicate his opinion that the work

of Marcel Detaze was suitable for showing in Germany; quite harmless, although not especially

distinguished. Lanny understood that he could expect no more for a painter from a nation

which the Führer had described as "Negroid." It was enough, and he wired Zoltan to come to

Berlin.

What did one do to obtain publicity with a gleichgeschaltete Presse? Lanny found out, even

before his friend arrived. A youngish, very businesslike gentleman called; one of those Berliners

who wear a derby hat, and on a hot day a vest-clip on which they may hang the hat, thus

preserving comfort and respectability at the same time. His card made him known as Herr

Privatdozent Doktor der Philosophie Aloysius Winckler zu Sturmschatten. In a polite

philosophical voice he informed Lanny that he was in position to promote the reputation of

Detaze—or otherwise. The Privatdozent spoke as one having both authority and

determination; he didn't evade or drop his eyes, but said: "Sie sind ein Weltmann, Herr

Budd. You know that a great deal of money can be made from the sale of these paintings if

properly presented; and it happens that I am a Parteigenosse from the early days, the

intimate friend of persons of great influence. In past times I have rendered them services and

they have done the same for me. You understand how such things go."

Lanny said that he understood; but that this was not entirely a commercial undertaking, he

was interested in making known the work of a man whom he had loved in life and admired

still.

"Yes, yes, of course," said the stranger, his voice as smooth and purring as that of a high-priced

motor-car. "I understand what you want, and I am in position to give it to you. For the sum of

twenty thousand marks I can make Marcel Detaze a celebrated painter, and for the sum of fifty

thousand marks I can make him the initiator of a new era in representational art."

"Well, that would be fine," said Lanny. "But how can I know that you are able to do these

things?"