Ledermann looked from the Wolf intent on his papers,
to Asa, bound in the chair. He looked at the Wolf again. He
swayed a little; the drinks had gone to his head just enough to
make him unsteady and reckless. He had not intended to take so
much; the Wolf was always careful; but to-night--well, the day
had been a hard one, and the end was so near. For months he had
been under a terrific strain--Ledermann shook his head.
"See how I trust you," said the Wolf in English, looking up from
his papers, "I know you will never, never tell. Oh no, that
would be impossible! Isn't that a fine little place to hide
things?" he chuckled, and replaced the packets, screwed the heel
in place, and stamped his foot on the floor. Then he turned to
his bottle.
Ledermann had placed it beyond his reach.
"Give me that!" he demanded violently.
Ledermann obeyed.
The Wolf turned to him.
"Now, Ledermann, no fooling here; turn in all your accounts.
Destroy everything that could give a clew to us. Pack the bombs
in the vault under the cellar floor. We may come back some day,
when we land with our men on the shores of Long Island." He
turned away. "Go and pack. We must be away from here before
dawn."
Ledermann shrugged his shoulders, looked curiously at Asa, then
turned and left the room.
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