Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 January 1914 — Page 2

The Treasure of Spandau

An Audacious Hazard of Nikolai, Independent Agent, as Related by His Lieutenant, Summers 1

“War,” aakt Nikolai to me, "is the greatest of all knaveries. It is made possible only by the tribute that, the strong have exacted from the weak* So, by relieving the German government of its funds, I shall be assisting the cause of humanity.”. We were in Beilin. The Morocco affair had stirred all Europe, and war between the Teuton and the Gaul was believed to be imminent. All Berlin was aflame with enthusiasm. Nikolai, passing a patriotic procession. laughed scornfully. "And this the folly of these silly sheep of which the government liopes to reap the advantage by an unpardonable attack on Prance,” he said. “It would be a charity to prevent it.” "Prevent war?” I exclaimed. Nikolai turned to me. “What makes war possible?” he asked. "Money,” I answered promptly. “And the German government's war fund is—” “In the fortress of Spandau,” I exclaimed, suddenly enlightened. Everybody knows that after France had paid Germany a huge monetary Indemnity in 1871, the Teutonic government set aside a war fund of several million pounds in gold, which was Immured in the recesses of the fortress of Spandau, nine miles from Berlin. And it was this sum that Nikolai contemplated raiding. --- -~ I confess the audacity of the scheme staggered me. Even knowing Nikolai as I did, the idea appeared to me increible. Tet here was this one man calmly proposing to loot the treasures of the kaiser, and those buried in the recesses of one of Germany’s most powerful fortresses. The evening papers were full of war news. Among other items we gleaned that the guns of Spandau were about to be dismounted and sent to the frontier, to help overawe the French government. It was the policy of Germany to obtain her ends peacefully if possible. In consequences, the publication of these items, as calculated to’ terrorize France, was rather encouraged. The papers teemed with stories of the preparations for mobilization.

Among other things we read that a cargo of shrapnel shells waß to be buried to Spandau, and thence to be conveyed with the guns to a waste territory in Alsace, used by the government for war manoeuvres on a large scale. Extensive firing practice, we learned, was to be carried on there, and, if the French government did not then come to terms, the mimic war would be converted into a reality. ' Nikolai was morose on the following day. I think the magnitude of his scheme was now better realized by him. Together we haunted the vicinity of the freight'yards. —7— — “Those shells will arrive from the Krupp factories,” he mediated. “Summers, it will be our task to convey them to Spandau in- person.” “But how?” I asked. - Nikolai smiled. “In a bureaucracy,” he answered, “everything is possible." And he made an appointment to meet me at the freight yards at seven o’clock that evening.

That was the hour at which the special train, bearing the toad of shells, was due to arrive. Everything goes by clockwork In Germany, and punctually at seven o'clock the train entered the station, the great shells openly displayed in the cars. Upon the engine was a representative of the Krupp works. Disguised as a mechanic, I waited, terrified lest at any moment some of the officers should inquire my business. But they were too much absorbed with the affairs in hand. A tall officer In uniform, wearing crossed swords upon his shoulders, stepped forward among those waiting and displayed an order. I gasped; it was Nikolai himself. Ke beckoned me and said, with as-' Burned roughness: *- "I want you, my man, to help unload this cargo at its destination.” Then, turning to the officers assembled, he added:

“You see, gentlemen, It Is the emperor’s special order. These shells must be run in to Spandau this evening or I cannot answer for the consequences.” They did not scrutinize the paper hard. They saw the signature of the kaiser'and saluted. Then, turning to the station agent, Nikolai commanded that the train be shunted to the private line which runs direct to the fortress. Half an hour later the train was in motion. Nikolai and I rode upon the engine, our solitary companion being the driver, whose duty would be completed when be had taken the train to its destination. A brief run brought ub within sight of the frowning fortress, a bastion strong enough to have defied centuries of time and all the artillery of any hostile army. Yet Nikolai bad set himself to capture Its^reaAures! The train, ran right within the walls god halted In a wide square Inside, around which the great black hulks of the guns loomed like some prehistoric monsters. Soldiers were passing busily to and ftv; none of them, however, :>ald any attention to us. They had «b«lr orders, and in Oer-

By H. M. EGBERT

(Copyright.' MIS. by W. G. Chapman)

many meddling with external affairs ie discouraged. Nikolai stepped off and proceeded toward a little archway which led to the quarters of the commanding officer. Presently the two emerged together. “Your Excellency,” said Nikolai, "I have now fulfilled the emperor’s instructions. You yourself, doubtless, have received orders as to the disposition of these shells. I shall proceed to unload them, with the help of your men, and my machahic here will examine each shell separately for any possible defects sustained in transit. He is the chief foreman of the ordnance branch of the Krupp factory.” The commanding offler acquiesced, and when, at his command, which was issued through several subordinates, files of soldiers in fatigue dress came swarming in the center cf the square, indicated that the shells were to be unloaded. The men fell to with a will. Each shell was an enormous burden for a single soldier, and soon the sweat was streaming down their faces. It was midnight before the last of the ammunition was safely stacked In the square.

Nikolai produced a small hammer from the pocket of his overcoat and handed it_jtp me. “Tap the shells lightly,” he whispered. “Some are defective —you understand? You are acquainted with their mechanism?” I had not served to no purpose in the British Royal artillery. I plied my task, calling to Nikolai frequently. The soldier had withdrawn; the commanding officer, who stood watching us, showed signs of fatigue. After half an hour, while his yawns grew visibly longer, Nikolai spoke. . “Your excellency,” he said, “I regret to say'that my mechanic here finds quite a number of defective timefuses. To remedy this work will require several hours of hard work.” The commanding officer came over. He looked at the sheila. “I nee nothing wrong with them,” he said, peering through his glasses. “Perhaps not, sir,” Nikolai rejoined, “and I have no doubt that in a pinch all would ’prove serviceable. Nevertheless, the Krupp factory feels a peculiar responsibility in this matter, and, with your leave, this fellow shall adjust the defective ones.” “As you please,” replied the commanding officer shortly. “Captain Kuppenheim will superintend the matter.” He turned toward his office to give the order. Nikolai, beckoning me, followed him.*

The office was a small, well-furnish-ed room connecting with the officer’s quarters by a small psasage-way, which cut it off from the rest of the house. He turned to his desk. Nikolai was close upon his heels. In an ante-room I saw an orderly dosing over a fire. Upon the desk was a bell. The officer bent over to press it. And suddenly Nikolai’s arms were round his throat, one hand pressed upon his mouth. The officer struggled valiantly, but he was perfectly helpless in Nikolai’s grasp. Instantly I had improvised a gag and thrust it into his mouth; then, with lengths of cord which lay scattered around the apartment, we bound his limbs and trussed him like a fowl. We rolled him into a corner, where he lay glaring at us in an indescribably comical manner, utterly helpless. I looked into the ante-room. The orderly was snoring peacefully.

“That was the crux of the problem,” said Nikoli. “Now all is plain sailing. It’s lucky we found that cord.” The office was in confusion. Piles of papers and wrappings lay all about In one corner was a screen. Nikolai placed it in front of the officer and motioned to me to step behind it. “Hold your revolver to his head,” he said. “The slightest sound or drumming of limbs and he dies.” He said this in a tone loud enough to be perfectly understood by the helpless officer. ‘

But then we were a little uncertain. It seemed incredible that we could remain there long undiscovered. Nikolai called the orderly. “Go to bed,” he said. “We do not need you.” I had expected that the soldier would question this command from a stranger, but the German soldier is trained to implicit obedience to the word of a superior. He simply saluted and marched stifily out of the door. Then, at Nikolai’s word, I raised the officer, and together we carried him into the ante-room, where we deposited him upon the hearth before the fire, with a pillow beneath his head. Ail this while my thoughts had been running on the gold. But Nikolai was not yet ready. He had told me to make doubly sure that his plans would not miscarry. He called after the retreating orderly. The man turned. "Send Captain Kuppenheim here,” he said. Two minutes later the captain came running in, drew himself up and saluted. “Captain Kuppenheim,” said Nikolai, returning the salute, “I have the honor to inform ybu that you will receive your orders from me.” And he showed him a paper*—Heaven knows how many of them fyVkolai had forged, or how he had doste so—bearing the

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER. IND.

superscription of the kaiser/; The captain looked at it and saluted again. “Yoq will tell off a half company of men to keep guard in the courtyard," said Nikolai, “while the shells are adjusted. They will be ready in half ah hour and will form in columns of four, in fatigue uniform.” The captain saluted aagin. “That wiir do, Captain Kuppenheim,” said Nikolai. The captain retired Btiffly. Then Nikolai turned to me. "We must find the keys,” he whispered. "Let us take another look at the general,” I exclaimed. In truth, though he had been bound hand and foot, though he could make no outcry, I was astonished that he had not somehow managed to indicate his presence in some manner. It is difficulty to deprive a man entirely of motion, be his bonds ever so strong.

We went into the ante-room. The general lay by the hearth just as we had placed him. Nikolai lifted his arm. It fell heavily. By the light of the fire I scrutinized his face. The eyeß were half open, but there was no recognition In. them. “He is dead,” Bald Nikolai, solemnly. It was true. He was an old man. and the shock had, doubtless, brought abo'ht a fatal stroke of apoplexy. Nikolai gazed at him a moment in silence. Then he raised his hand at the salute. “Honor to a brave man, even though he be a servant of tyranny,” he said. “It is as well for him perhaps.” Then he turned away. This unexpected denouement, while

it could not add to the desperate condition of our undertaking, solved one of our most pressing difficulties. All danger from this source was now removed. Nikolai went back into the office, and together we searched for the keys. And we found them. We found bunches of keys—keys of every kind. There must have been half a hundred when we gave up the search. But which was the key to the strong room? “None of these,” said Nikolai. “It will be In triplicate—and there will be a combination.” He paused and looked at me sadly. “Summers,” he said, “I had hoped to wring the secret from the dead man by threat of deaths It was a desperate hope at best; now it is not even a hope. The secret of the combination was known to none but him, doubtless. Suddenly I had an inspiration. “The key will be upon his person!" I exclaimed:

Nikolai’s hand descended softly upo my shoulder. “You are right, Summers,” he said. “Come!” It was repugnant to me to lay hands upon the dead man there by the fire. I felt guilty as a parricide as I reverently cut ts bonds; as a robber of the dead when I turned out the contents of the pockets. There were letters there in feminine writing, money, papers, a hasty glimpse at which revealed their unimportance to us, and a great gleaming golden watch which, as I took it, opened In my hand and flashed out the time to me. But there was no key, “Round his neck,” said Nikolai. And thefo we found it It was a little golden key, alone, but of a pe-

"( a ' cellar fashion. I saw at once that, by pressing a spring upon its handle, it was convertible into either of. two other kinds through an automatic movement of the* wards. There were,’ then, three locks- to b« forced. I felt elated; I could hardly restrain my joy.; But Nikolai stood looking down at me gravely. “That’s no use, Summers,” be said. “We need the combination.” I had forgotten that Our partial success had only made our eventual failure the more humiliating. Still, we had found the key. Perhaps the combination might be written down. “He was an old man,” I said. “His memory might have been faulty. Would he have kept three sets of figures in his brain?” And, even as the wards left my lips, a coal popped in the fire, and a bright blaze sprang up and flickered on the gold watch. And on the edge of the inner case, by some miracle of observation I saw three rows of figures minutely scratched. “The combination!” I exclaimed. There was little doubt,. According' -to the German system, the lock was set by numbers instead of letters, and these could mean nothing else. We stood there in exultation for a moment, until a noise without recalled us to ourselves. The soldiers were filing in the yard. Outside I could see Captain Kuppenheim and a sergeant marshaling them.' * “Summers,” said Nikolai, “our task is now an extremely simple .one. H your courage does no fall you. Remember that the German soldier 1b trained to one thing—implicit obedi-

ence. The most singular 'action will not be observed by him. He is trained as an automaton, nothing more. “Our duty now is to procure the gold. I know the location of the strong room. We cannot hope to carry even a tenth part away; I trust, however, that we shall ultimately reap a rich reward from our enterprise. Follow me!” We passed out boldly into the courtyard, Nikopai gravely returning the salute of the officer. He led me through a second archway, along a low passage which terminated in a barred door. Two sentries on duty stood at attention. Nikolai fitted the gold key to the lock. A moment’s fumbling, and it opened, and we passed through. Looking back, I saw that, the sentries were still at attention. The passage now turned off to the right abruptly, and a second door faced us.- This was unguarded. It opened noiselessly, and we found ourselves in a huge, vaulted chamber of gloomy aspect, at the end of which a fire was burning. Two soldiers in uniform rose and saluted us. Nikolai passed between them and fitted the key to the door. One of the men detained him. "Pardon, excellency,” he said. "None but his excellency, General Faber, enters this chamber.” “Read that!” said Nikolai sharply, whipping out a paper. Again I saw the emperor's signature. I afteward learned that one paper had served on each of the three occasions. “Well, can’t you read?” snapped Nikolai, as the soldier still barred the way. s

”No, excellency,” replied the man humbly. “Fool! Do you know your emperor's signature?" “No, excellency,” the soldier answered humbly. “No one but General Faber passes through this door. Those are his orders." As Nikolai still made toward the door there came a clatter of steel, and simultaneously the two guards had snatched up their rifles and fitted bayonets to them. I laid my hand on my revolver; then I saw that Nikolai wan still expostulating with the men. “What are your exact orders, dolts?” he asked. And then the men replied in chorus: - “It is forbidden that anyone except his excellency. General Faber, passes through this door.” “Well said,” cried Nikolai heartily, clapping the nearest man upon the back. “I was but testing you. I shall report your good conduct to our emperor himself.” “The soldiers presented bayonets at the name. “And now, my mea,” he continued, handing the key to one of the guard, “do you take this and turn the lock until you see the number 975 appear—see, I will show you. Now turn it and enter.” The soldier took the key and opened the door obediently. As it swung back a blaze of electric light flooded the chamber. And I staggered back in astonishment. I saw astonishment upon Nikolai’s face, astonishment upon the stolid countenances of the guards. _ For the vault beyond was heaped with shining coins. There they lay. Just as they had been flung in 1871. But the sacks

which had contained them had mouldered under the touch of time, and the floor was heaped ceiling high with gold pieces. They lay like flakes of golden grain, shining and scintillating in the electric glow. “Enter, men, and gather 2,000 pieces,” said Nikolai. And the men obeyed him and staggered toward him, carrying the coins in pieces of rotting sackcloth. “Close the door and* remain on guard,” said Nikolai. With our pocket filled and also bearing a precious cargo in our arms, we staggered out. At the second door, however, Nikolai halted. , “An officer may not carry a bundle," he said. “Summers, I must transfer this freight to you. Can you carry it?” It was the heaviest burden I had carted in my -life. I staggered through the passage, Nikolai beside me. At the outermost door he whispered his final Instructions. “Dump them in the freight cars,” he whispered. “In the first car are tools. Unscrew the shells, pour out the shrapnel, and fill them. You understand? I shall be with you.” We passed out of the courtyard. The soldiers stood in columns of four, but at a word from Nikolai, they withdrew and formed a hollow square at some distance from the cars. The night was moonless; our operations were hardly visible. When 1 had deposited my burden in the car, Nikolai and 1 went back for more. Twenty times, we made that Journey, and every time the soldiers brought opt the coins to us. And, at, the twenty-first we had made scarcely

an impression upon the shining hoars. Reluctantly Nikolai gave the final order to close the door? -:-- v y , Then all through the night I toiled, filling the shells. I lifted them into the cars one by one, the projectiles, filled them with coins, and poured out' the shrapnel, until, in place of the golden flood that lapped my f?et there was a streamer leaden bullets. It was dawn before my task was done. * It was done at last The shells were Bcrowoti itifit, in iu6 orwSiu§ Ufut Nikolai and I looked into each other’s haggard faces. And we read in eaoh other's eyes that we had miserably failed. For neither of us had estimated in any degree the magnitude of our task. We had not known how very few gold pieces prove the limit of a man’s strength. We nad removed 40,000 pieces of gold, worth roughly $200,000 —200,000, .when there remained 10,000,000 pieces behind! With bleeding hands I descended from the cars. Nikolai called to the driver, who was dozing upon his engine. The cars were uncoupled. It seemed hours before we got up steam, while the day lighted, and I waited in an agony of apprehension. At last the engine was in readiness to move. We sprang aboard, the wheels revolved, and as the sun rose we passed through the fortress gates into the open country beyond. We had plundered Spandau; but where was our gain? “That,” said Nikolai, “remains for future gathering. When the shells burst upon" the practice field'in Alsace there will be good gold pieces sown among the weeds for our picking up.” And so he began to laugh. It was a scheme hatched in the most fantastic brain that ever a sane man possessed. We had filled the shells with gold,- that we might pick up the contents after the big guns had fired at the practice targets on the waste ground! But the war scare blew over, and Spardau’s guns were never moved. Doubtless our gold-filled shells still repose in the arsenal at Spardau.

LEARNED WANTS OF PEOPLE

Englishman Set Himself to Bupply Them, and Now Is Many Times a Millionaire. In the Strand Sir Joseph Lyons, the biggest caterer in England—perhaps in the world —tells the story of how he first conceived the idea of “feeding the masses.” It chanced, he says, that, to satisfy the inner man, one morning in the ’Bob I strolled into a dirty—to me, repellent—little London restaurant. These unappetizing establishments were almost invariably small, being limited in the capacities for cooking and serving of the man and his wife, with, perhaps, one or two waiters. They were so often invariably dark, stuffy little places; often infested with cockroaches; and as for their kitchens, they were things liable to cause nightmares—anyway, I prefer not to tell of them. The city clerk who wanted a snacli had to pay eight cents for a cup ol coffee or tea, a two-cent tip, and twt> or four cents for a bun. It goes without saying that these charges were beyond their slender means; result, he adjourned to the nearest bar and had a glass of beer. ' Well, on the occasion to which I refer I entered the said “restaurant,” ordered the least urimviting -dish I could hit upon, and turned things over in my mind during the unconscionably long time I had to wait for the arrival of my repast. I had often enough before this reflected how great fortunes had been made by the discovery of some simple universal want waiting to be supplied. In a flash It came to me that I had discovered just' such a simple, unsupplled universal want —clean and decent fare in bright and congenial surroundings at a reasonable price, i And there and then was laid the foundation stone of a business which now feeds about 2,000,000 of the inhabitants of London, and which on every working day in the year caters for over 600,000 men, Women and children—a business, too, which finds work for nearly -16,000 employes, which possesses 260 branches (the number is steadily increasing, both in London and the provinces), and which has no fewer than 120,000 agents throughout the- country 1 selling our “wares.” Yes, in a small way—and I write it with- due humility —a chance visit of a discontented artist to a flirty restaurant has exercised a considerable influence, indeed, over the lives of a very large -section of men, women and children in Great Britain.

For Health, a Walk.

In the warm weather, when exercise In the heat« of the day seems a burden, try walking early in the morning « and again late in evening. Be energetic and get up before breakfast in earnest. Don’t try to walk before you have eaten, but eat something light and satisfying and start forth on a morning constitutiepal. You can'get home again before the heat of the day has really set in. If you find the morning walk impossible, try the evening walk. Start out after the sun has gone down, either before a late dinner or after an early one, and walk in the dusk until you are tired. The woman who must work in office or shop would find systematic early morning and l%te evening exercise beenflcial aqd invigorating.

Diverse Impressions.

“My new gown,” said Mrs. Flimgilt, "is a dream ” “It may be a dream for you," replied her husband; “but it’s -insomnia for me.” -