Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 277, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 November 1914 — CHUMS WITH SPY; NEW YORKER HAS NARROW ESCAPE [ARTICLE]

CHUMS WITH SPY; NEW YORKER HAS NARROW ESCAPE

Correspondent Tells of Thrilling AdVenture Gotham Man Had in France. iDIDN’T KNOW HIS “FRIEND” Saw Him Taken Out by the Troops and Then Heard the Volley of Musketry That Ended His Life. Chicago.—Herbert Corey, writing to the Daily News from London, tells the following remarkable story: Harry Martin saw him first in the streets of Amiens. He says he couldn’t be mistaken. / “You know me," said Martin. “I haven’t got enough French to get through to ‘polssons’ on any table d’hote bill. I spend more time in France looking for some one who can talk the language than I do in looking at cathedrals.” Because of the war all the regular waiters have left the Hotel du Rhin. 'The regular waiters talk English. Martin saw a young man who didn’t look precisely like a Frenchman. So he hailed him. “He talked IL 5.,” said Martin. “Regular New-York. ■ He told me that for four years he waited on table In the old Martin place', at Twenty-sixth street. Knew a lot of the people I know —by sight. Said he used to be Diamond Jim Brady’s special waiter. I don’t know. It’s only what he told me.” So the ex-waiter at Martin’s Interpreted for the young New York man, who in times of peace does a nice business in French perfumes and mustache stiffeners. Martin says that if he had had good sense he would have quit France when the trouble first started. But he had always had a hankering for adventure that could not be satisfied in the perfume trade. So he began prospecting along the line of hostilities, hoping to see some real fighting. “This ex-waiter gave me a lot of good dope,” said Martin. “He and I kicked around together for or two. He said he was a Frenchman. I don’t know. It’s only wha| he told me.” Ex-Waiter Fails to Appear. Ode day the ex-waiter did not appear. The next day Martin moved on. For three weeks he managed to get along, seeing a good many things. His papers were of the best quality. They "had been secured for him by friends in the perfume line in Paris. “Then I was picked up by the French hussars,” said Martin. “I didn’t mind. I had been arrested so often that I felt sort of peevish if I wasn’t pinched occasionally. The Frenchmen always turned me loose. They’re a good Martin was taken into the best room of a little cottage near Amiens. Just outside was an orchard. The scent of the fruit rotting oii the ground filled the air. A sentry In brilliant red pants stood at the door of the cottage filling the Immature mind of the young son of the cottage with marvelous tales of war. Martin will never forget the round eyes of the youth as he gazed on the redpanted hero. The perfume salesman was turned over to a young lieutenant, who spoke good English, -s I “You’ll have to wait until the colonel talks with you,” said the lieutenant .“But do no( fear. I will make It all right” Martin didn’t fear. „ He didn’t know that there was any reason for fear. There he was —Martin, a salesman of irreproachable antecedents —and he had been arrested so often*that he re-

garded arrest as a part of the day’s routine. He sat down and watched with interest what was going on. French Officers Are Busy. “Maybe there were a dozen French officers there,” said he, “all smoking cigarettes and talking. I never did hear so much talk- They all talked at once. But it looked as though they were getting things done, at that. Soldiers. would come in and report to the colorfel and talk to all the other officers. And all the other officers would talk to them. By and by they got their orders and went out. I don’t know anything about soldiering, but I could see that that little old cottage was being run right.” Martin had cigars. So he and the lieutenant sat in a corner and smoked them. The lieutenant said he wasn’t anxious to bring Martin to the attention of the. colonel until the cigars were gone. Noone paid any attention to them. There was no suggestion of anything serious in the air. “All at once this ex-waiter from: Martin’s came in,” said Martin. “A soldier had him by each elbow. He saluted the colonel. He had never told me that he had been a soldier.” Martin planned to hail him when he got the But an instinct of caution restrained him. Evidently this ex-waiter was “in bad.” The officers were regarding him silently. By and by they began to talk again. First the soldiers who held the ex-waiter told a story and passed a packet of papers over to the colonel. Colonel Asks Questions. “The colonel asked him some questions,” said Martin, “and then other officers talked to him. They all seemed friendly enough. No one made any fuss. He answered some questions and some he didn’t. By and by he asked for a cigarette and the lieutenant who had me handed him one. They bowed and smiled to each other.” The other officers talked to each other. Evidently they were not talking abopt the ex-waiter. The colonel sat pulling ,at< his -thumb-size goatee. Martin’s lieutenant took another of Martin’s cigars and complimented him on them. The ex-waiter looked around the room for the first time. Martin caught his eye and grinned. The ex-waiter looked him in the eye and turned away. “Well,” said Martin to himself, “that’s a dickens of a note.” The colonel took another cigarette •from his dwindling case. The officers sat with their elbows on their knees and looked silently at the ex-waiter. The colonel said something. The two soldiers saluted and turned on their beefs. The ex-waiter whipped his hand stiffly to his forehead, stood at attention, and turned on his heel. The officers relaxed somewhat and again began talking. As the ex-waiter went out he smiled in Martin’s direction — not to him —a queej;, wistful sort of r smile. “It sort of got tne going for a minute,” said Martin. Through the open doors of the cottage they* heard the staccato commands of a drill sergeant. A squad shuffled quickly by. They heard the clicking of gunlocks. Martin turned to his “Listen,” said the lieutenant, holding up one hand., 3 The colonel and the other officers were sitting quietly, in attitudes of attention. There ‘was the report of musketry. The sound of talk within the room rose again. The colonel began to paw over his innumerable reports. The lieutenant spoke to him, and came back to Martin with the word that he must leave the country at once. The lieutenant said it was dangerous for him. The peasants might not understand him. Martin said he would. “But, say,” said he to his friend the lieutenant, “what was this shooting lust now?” “Did you not comprehend?" asked the lieutenant. "It was a spy.”