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“But I do not like the killing,” Hans protested Staring ht behind the spy’s desk, he saw his face reflected like a decaying skull

The spy surprised Hans by answering in northern-accented German Hans had assulish Instead, he spoke like a compatriot “You had no choice, iven enee Soon the Ahts Would you have their dreadnoughts sink German ships? Kill German sailors? Shell German ports?”

“You are right, mein Herr,” Hans answered “Of course”

The spy smiled as if he sympathized with Hans’s huhed God bless the siht Notheir Army, no matter how modern their Navy, no matter how loudly their Kaiser boasted “Mein Feld ist die Welt,” they always feared they were the little guy

That constant dread of being second best made them so easy to lead

Your field is the world, Herr Kaiser? The hell it is Your field is full of sheep

4

IT WAS A CHINAMAN,” SAID MARINE LANCE CORPORAL Black, puffing sar

“If you believe the Gramps Patrol,” puffed Private Little

“He ht watchmen”

Isaac Bell indicated that he understood that the “Graht watchates, while the Marines ates themselves

He and the husky young leathernecks were seated at a round table in O’Leary’s Saloon on E Street They had been generous sports about their previous encounter, offering Bell grudging respect for his fighting skills and forgiving black eyes and loosened teeth after only one round of drinks At Bell’s urging they had polished off a lunch of steaks, potatoes, and apple pie Nohiskey glasses at hand and Bell’s Havanas blueing the air, they were primed to be talkative

Their coh the gates the night that Arthur Langner had died, they told hiet Joe Van Dorn to wangle a peek at that list to confirment

A night watchman had reported an intruder The report had apparently not even reached the coher up the chain of couard, who had deemed it nonsense

Bell asked, “If it were true, what the Gramps Patrol reported, why do you suppose a Chinaman would break into the navy yard?”