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Lanny believed that he could do this job himself, and could think better if he didn't have

opposition. He said: "No, dear," and "No, darling; I'm going to be very careful, and. it won't

take long."

IV

So, bright and early one morning, Margy Petries's servants deposited his bags in his car, and

not without some moisture in his eyes and some sinkings in his inside, he set out for the ferry

to Calais, whose name Queen Mary had said was written on her heart, and which surely

existed as some sort of scar on Lanny's. He went by way of Metz and Strasbourg, for the fewer

countries one entered in unhappy Europe, the less bother with visas and customs

declarations. How glorious the country seemed in the last days of June; and how pitiful by

contrast that Missgeburt of nature which had developed the frontal lobes of its brain so

enormously, in order to create new and more dreadful ways of destroying millions of other

members of its own species! "Nature's insurgent son" had cast off chain-mail and dropped

lances and battle-axes, only to take up bombing-planes and Nazi propaganda.

The blood of millions of Frenchmen and Germans had fertilized this soil and made it so

green and pleasant to Lanny's eyes. He knew that in all these copses and valleys were hidden

the direful secrets of the Maginot Line, that series of complicated and enormously expensive

fortifications by which France was counting upon preventing another German invasion. Safe

behind this barricade, Frenchmen could use their leisure to maim and mangle other

Frenchmen with iron railings torn from a beautiful park. Where Lanny crossed the Rhine was

where the child Marie Antoinette had come with her train of two or three hundred vehicles,

on her long journey from Vienna to marry the Dauphin of France. All sorts of history around

here, but the traveler had no time to think about it; his mind was occupied with the history he

was going to make.

Skirting the edge of the Alps, with snow-dad peaks always in view, he came to the city of

Munich on its little river Isar. He put up at a second-class hotel, for he didn't want newspaper

reporters after him, and wanted to be able to put on the suit of old clothes which he had

brought, and be able to walk about the city, and perhaps the town of Dachau, without

attracting any special attention. At the Polizeiwache he reported himself as coming for the

purpose of purchasing works of art; his first act after that was to call upon a certain Baron von

Zinszollern whom he had met at the Detaze show and who had many paintings in his home. This

gentleman was an avowed Nazi sympathizer, and Lanny planned to use him as his "brown

herring," so to speak. In case of exposure this might sow doubts and confusion in Nazi minds,

which would be so much to the good.

Lanny went to this art patron's fine home and looked at his collection, and brought up in his

tactful way whether any of the works could be bought; he intimated that the prices asked were

rather high, but promised to cable abroad and see what he could do. He did cable to Zoltan, and

to a couple of customers in America, and these messages would be a part of his defense in case

of trouble. All through his stay in Munich he would be stimulating the hopes of a somewhat

impoverished German aristocrat, and diminishing the prices of his good paintings.

V

Upon entering Germany the conspirator had telephoned to Hugo Behr in Berlin, inviting

that young Nazi to take the night train to Munich. Lanny was here on account of pictures, he

said, and would show his friend some fine specimens. Hugo had understood, and it hadn't

been necessary to add, "expenses paid." The young sports director had doubtless found some

use for the money which Lanny had paid him, and would be pleased to render further services.

He arrived next morning, going to a different hotel, as Lanny had directed. He telephoned,

and Lanny drove and picked him up on the street. A handsome young Pomeranian, alert and

with springy step, apple-cheeked and with wavy golden hair, Hugo was a walk ing advertisement

of the pure Nordic ideal. In his trim Brownshirt uniform, with insignia indicating his important

function, he received a salute from all other Nazis, and from many civilians wishing to keep on

the safe side. It was extremely reassuring to be with such a man in Germany—although the "Heil

Hitlers" became a bit monotonous after a while.

Lanny drove his guest out into the country, where they could be quiet and talk freely. He

encouraged the guest to assume that the invitation was purely out of friendship; rich men can

indulge their whims like that, and they do so. Lanny was deeply interested to know how

Hugo's movement for the reforming of the Nazi party was coming along, and as the reformer

wanted to talk about nothing else, they drove for a long time through the valleys of the Alpine

foothills. The trees were in full splendor, as yet untouched by any signs of wear. A beautiful

land, and Lanny's head was full of poetry about it. Die Fenster auf, die Herzen auf! Geschwinde,

geschwinde!

But Hugo's thoughts had no trace of poetic cheerfulness. His figure of a young Hermes was

slumped in the car seat, and his tone was bitter as he said: "Our Nazi revolution is kaput. We

haven't accomplished a thing. The Führer has put himself completely into the hands of the

reactionaries. They tell him what to do—it's no longer certain that he could carry out his own

program, even if he wanted to. He doesn't see his old friends any more, he doesn't trust them.

The Reichswehr crowd are plotting to get rid of the Stormtroopers altogether."

"You don't really mean all that, Hugo!" Lanny was much distressed.

"Haven't you heard about our vacation?"

"I only entered Germany yesterday."

"All the S.A. have been ordered to take a vacation during the month of July. They say we've

been overworked and have earned a rest. That sounds fine; but we're not permitted to wear

our uniforms, or to carry our arms. And what are they going to do while we're disarmed? What

are we going to find when we come back?"

"That looks serious, I admit."

"It seems to me the meaning is plain. We, the rank and file, have done our job and they're

through with us. We have all been hoping to be taken into the Reichswehr; but no, we're not

good enough for that. Those officers are Junkers, they're real gentlemen, while we're common

trash; we're too many, two million of us, and they can't afford to feed us or to train us, so we

have to be turned off—and go to begging on the streets, perhaps."

"You know, Hugo, Germany is supposed to have only a hundred thousand in its regular

army. Mayn't it be that the Führer doesn't feel strong enough to challenge France, and

Britain on that issue?"

"What was our revolution for, but to set us free from their control? And how can we ever

become strong, if we reject the services of the very men who have made National Socialism?

We put these leaders in power—and now they're getting themselves expensive villas and big

motor-cars, and they're afraid to let us of the rank and file even wear our uniforms! They talk

of disbanding us, because the Reich can't afford our magnificent salaries of forty-two pfennigs

a day."

"Is that what you get?"

"That is what the rank and file get. What is that in your money?"

"About ten cents."

"Does that sound so very extravagant?"

"The men in our American army get about ten times that. Of course both groups get food and