o 3b3e7475144cf77c

into the van, and he stumbled over the feet of several other men.

The doors were closed, and then it was mercifully dim. Lanny opened his eyes; since they had

been brought to the condition of an owl's, he could see a stoutish, melancholy-looking gentleman

who might be a businessman, sitting directly across the aisle. At Lanny's side was an eager little

Jew with eyeglasses, who might be a journalist out of luck. Lanny, never failing in courtesy,

remarked: "Guten Morgen"; but the man across the way put his finger to his lips and nodded

toward the guard who had entered the van and taken his seat by the door. Evidently

"Sprechen verboten" was still the rule.

But some men have keen wits, and do not hand them over when they enter a jail. The little Jew

laid his hand on Lanny's where it rested on the seat between them. He gave a sharp tap with

his finger, and at the same time, turning his head toward Lanny and from the guard, he

opened his mouth and whispered softly: "Ah!" just as if he were beginning a singing lesson, or

having his throat examined for follicular tonsillitis. Then he gave two quick taps, and whispered:

"Bay!" which is the second letter of the German alphabet. Then three taps: "Tsay!"— the third

letter; and so on, until the other nodded his head. Lanny had heard tapping in his dungeon,

but hadn't been sure whether it was the water-pipes or some code which he didn't know.

This was the simplest of codes, and the Jew proceeded to tap eighteen times, and then waited

until Lanny had calculated that this was the letter R. Thus slowly and carefully, he spelled

out the name "R-O-E-H-M." Lanny assumed that the little man was giving his own name, and

was prepared to tap "B-U-D-D," and be glad that it was short. But no, his new friend was

going on; Lanny counted through letter after letter: "E-R-S-C-H-O-S-." By that time the

little Jew must have felt Lanny's hand come alive beneath his gentle taps, and realized that

Lanny had got his meaning. But he finished the word to make sure. It took twice as long as it

would have taken in English: "Rohm shot!"

XI

That simple statement bore a tremendous weight of meaning for Lanny. It enabled him to

begin choosing among the variety of tales which he had constructed for himself in the past three

days and four nights. If Ernst Rohm, Chief of Staff of the Sturmabteilung, had been shot, it

must mean that the much-talked-of "Second Revolution" had failed. And especially when the

tapping continued, and Lanny counted out, letter by letter, the words "in Stadelheim." That

was a flash of lightning on a black night; it told Lanny what all the shooting had been about.

The S.A. Chief of Staff and his many lieutenants who had been gathered for a conference! They

must have been seized, carried from Wiessee, and shot somewhere in the grim old prison! The

quick finger tapped on, and spelled the name of Heines, followed again by the dread word

"erschossen." Lanny knew that this was the police chief of Breslau, who had led the gang which

had burned the Reichstag; he was one of the most notorious of the Nazi killers, and Hugo had

named him as one of Rohm's fellow-perverts, and a guest at the Wiessee villa.

And then the name of Strasser! Lanny put his hand on top of the little Jew's and spelled the

name "Otto"; but the other wiggled away and spelled "Gr—" so Lanny understood that it was

Gregor Strasser, whom he had heard getting a tongue-lashing from the Führer, and whom he

and Irma had heard speaking at a Versammlung in Stuttgart. Otto Strasser was the founder of

the hated "Black Front," and was an exile with a price on his head; but his elder brother

Gregor had retired from politics and become director of a chemical works. Lanny had been

surprised when Hugo had mentioned him as having had conferences with Rohm.

The little Jewish intellectual was having a delightful time breaking the rules and gossiping

with a fellow-prisoner, telling him the meaning of the terrific events of the past three days.

Even into a prison, news penetrates and is spread; and never in modern times had there been

news such as this! The eager finger tapped the name of Schleicher; the one-time Chancellor, the

self-styled "social general" who had tried so hard to keep Hitler out of power; who had

thwarted von Papen, and then been thwarted in turn. Of late he had been dickering with the

malcontents, hankering to taste the sweets of power again. "Schleicher erschossen!" A high

officer of the Reichswehr, a leading Junker, one of the sacred ruling caste! Lanny looked at the

face of the stoutish gentleman across the aisle, and understood why his eyes were wide and

frightened. Could he see the little Jew's finger resting on Lanny's hand, and was he perhaps

counting the taps? Or was he just horrified to be alive in such a world?

Lanny had heard enough names, and began tapping vigorously in his turn. "Wohin gehen