"We will go direct to Col. Evans' headquarters," Lieut. Osborne announced shortly after the return trip had been begun. "He asked me to report back to him as soon as possible."
The trip was soon made. The colonel's headquarters were less than a mile behind the rear line trenches, and the road to this point was in fairly good condition.
Irving felt a deep interest in this visit aside from the bearing it had on the matter under investigation. He had never seen a colonel's headquarters and was curious to know what appearance such a place might present.
He was not greatly surprised to find it a dugout, although he had not pictured it such in his mind. The first suggestion that had offered itself to him was that the head of the regiment probably had stationed himself in the palatial residence or chateau of some wealthy fugitive civilian. However, when the truth appeared to him with the most commonplace simplicity, he decided that it was the very thing that he ought to have expected.
The dugout was a two-room affair in the side of a hill on the outskirts of a small village. The hill was covered with fruit trees and berry vines, affording an excellent camouflage. One of the rooms was occupied by the colonel and the other by his orderlies. The walls and roof were of concrete, thick enough to resist heavy bombing from the air. Other attaches of this headquarters were housed in several homes of the otherwise deserted village.
The commander of the regiment received the visitors in his elaborately furnished living room, bedroom and dining room. Lieut. Osborne began at once a rapid account of the interview he had had with Second Lieut. Tourtelle, or Hessenburg. The colonel listened attentively, every now and then casting a sharp and sometimes lingering glance at Private Ellis, who had all he could do to suppress the anxious eagerness he felt relative to impending developments. Naturally, as he had rather dubiously offered the original information that led up to the partial disclosure of extensive spy activities, he felt as if his whole future depended upon the full success of the investigation.
Lieut. Osborne opened the box containing the tattooed message and took it out of its salt packing. Col. Evans examined it curiously while the reporting officer explained all he knew about it, calling attention to the telegraphic dots and dashes running around the numerous "cubes."
"We ought to get somebody who is skilled in cryptographic work busy on this at once," said the colonel. "I've been in communication with the brigadier general's headquarters and suggested that to them, and now that I have this in my possession, I'm going to urge it stronger. I'll get them on the wire again."
They were seated at a table at one side of the room, and as he spoke, the regiment commander cranked the telephone box at his right and lifted the receiver to his ear. The conversation was short, for the intelligence department at the brigade headquarters had been busy on the colonel's suggestion and already had found an expert qualified to probe the mystery of the cubist cryptogram. He would start at once for the regimental headquarters.
"Just wait here till our cryptologist arrives," said the colonel, after reporting the result of his conversation over the telephone; "and maybe he'll be able to clear up matters so that we may begin to see bottom."
The expert, Lieut. Gibbons, attached to the divisional commander's intelligence staff, arrived half an hour later, and the spy story had to be told all over again for his benefit, while he examined curiously the "freak-art camouflaged message."
"I may be able to work this out in a few hours, and then again, it may take several days," he said. "I'd better take it with me back to headquarters and work on it there and report back results as soon as I get them."
The colonel assented to this and the expert prepared to depart with the cubist cryptogram in his possession. Then the regimental commander turned to the officer and the private and said:
"Lieutenant, you will return to your company. I will call on you when I wish to communicate with you again on this matter. Private Ellis, you will remain here. I can use another orderly, and, besides, I'd like to have you close at hand in case of further developments in this spy investigation. By the way, can you operate a motorcycle?"
"Yes, sir," Irving replied.
"Good. You can be useful at once. I have some papers that I want delivered to the brigadier general. You may follow Lieut. Gibbons' automobile and learn the way. He goes past the brigadier general's headquarters."
A motorcycle was soon produced and Irving, after a hurried examination of it, announced that he understood it thoroughly. A minute later he was in the saddle and "lickety-chugging" along after the intelligence official's automobile.
And meanwhile there was buzzing in his brain this new wonder with eager expectation:
"What was the real purpose of Col. Evans in keeping him at headquarters"? Was that officer likely to have further army detective work for him to do?
Already he was beginning to feel like a government secret service man, and he longed to be of further service to his country and the cause of world freedom in this romantic line.
He little dreamed how far beyond the scope of his saner imagination his patriotic longing was to be realized.