Elusive Isabel, by Jacques Futrelle by Unknown (good short books .TXT) 📗

friend of the man whom you defeated for president. There might”—he stopped suddenly.

“Go on,” urged the president.

“I think every man meets once in his life an individual with whom he would like to reckon personally,” the young man continued. “That reckoning may not be a severe one; it may be less severe than the law would provide; but it would be a personal reckoning. There is one individual in this affair with whom I should like to reckon, hence the personal equation enters very largely into the case.”

For a little while the silence of the room was unbroken, save for the steady tick-tock of a great clock in one corner. Mr. Grimm’s eyes were fixed unwaveringly upon those of the chief executive. At last the secretary of war crumpled a sheet of paper impatiently and hitched his chair up to the table.

“Coming down to the facts it’s like this, isn’t it?” he demanded briskly. “The Latin countries, by an invention of their own which the United States and England were to be duped into purchasing, would have had power to explode every submarine mine before attacking a port? Very well. This thing, of course, would have given them the freedom of the seas as long as we were unable to explode their submarines as they were able to explode ours. And this is the condition which made the Latin compact possible, isn’t it?”

He looked straight at Mr. Grimm, who nodded.

“Therefore,” he went on, “if the Latin compact is not a reality on paper; if the United States and England do not purchase this—this wireless percussion cap, we are right back where we were before it all happened, aren’t we? Every possible danger from that direction has passed, hasn’t it? The world-war of which we have been talking is rendered impossible, isn’t it?”

“That’s a question,” answered Mr. Grimm. “If you will pardon me for suggesting it, I would venture to say that as long as there is an invention of that importance in the hands of nations whom we now know have been conspiring against us for fifty years, there is always danger. It seems to me, if you will pardon me again, that for the sake of peace we must either get complete control of that invention or else understand it so well that there can be no further danger. And again, please let me call your attention to the fact that the brain which brought this thing into existence is still to be reckoned with. There may, some day, come a time when our submarines may be exploded at will regardless of this percussion cap.”

The secretary of war turned flatly upon Chief Campbell.

“This woman who is mixed up in this affair?” he demanded. “This Miss Thorne. Who is she?”

“Who is she?” repeated the chief. “She’s a secret agent of Italy, one of the most brilliant, perhaps, that has ever operated in this or any other country. She is the pivot around which the intrigue moved. We know her by a dozen names; any one of them may be correct.”

The brows of the secretary of war were drawn down in thought as he turned to the president.

“Mr. Grimm was speaking of the personal equation,” he remarked pointedly. “I think perhaps his meaning is clear when we know there is a woman in the case. We know that Mr. Grimm has done his duty to the last inch in this matter; we know that alone and unaided, practically, he has done a thing that no living man of his relative position has ever done before—prevented a world-war. But there is further danger—he himself has called our attention to it—therefore, I would suggest that Mr. Grimm be relieved of further duty in this particular case. This is not a moment when the peace of the world may be imperiled by personal feelings of—of kindliness for an individual.”

Mr. Grimm received the blow without a tremor. His hands were still idly clasped behind his back; the eyes fastened upon the president’s face were still listless; the mouth absolutely without expression.

“As Mr. Grimm has pointed out,” the secretary went on, “we have been negotiating for this wireless percussion cap. I have somewhere in my office the name and address of the individual with whom these negotiations have been conducted. Through that it is possible to reach the inventor, and then—! I suggest that we vote our thanks to Mr. Grimm and relieve him of this particular case.”

The choleric eyes of the president softened a little, and grew grave as they studied the impassive face of the young man.

“It’s a strange situation, Mr. Grimm,” he said evenly. “What do you say to withdrawing?”

“I am at your orders, Mr. President,” was the reply.

“No one knows better what you have done than the gentlemen here at this table,” the president went on slowly. “No one questions that you have done more than any other man could have done under the circumstances. We understand, I think, that indirectly you are asking immunity for an individual. I don’t happen to know the liability of that individual under our law, but we can’t make any mistake now, Mr. Grimm, and so—and so—” He stopped and was silent.

“I had hoped, Mr. President, that what I have done so far—and I don’t underestimate it—would have, at least, earned for me the privilege of remaining in this case until its conclusion,” said Mr. Grimm steadily. “If it is to be otherwise, of course I am at—”

“History tells us, Mr. Grimm,” interrupted the president irrelevantly, “that the frou-frou of a woman’s skirt has changed the map of the world. Do you believe,” he went on suddenly, “that a man can mete out justice fairly, severely if necessary, to one for whom he has a personal regard?”

“I do, sir.”

“Perhaps even to one—to a woman whom he might love?”

“I do, sir.”

The president rose.

“Please wait in the anteroom for a few minutes,” he directed.

Mr. Grimm bowed himself out. At the end of half an hour he was again