Below Zero

This was mere camouflage of speech. I went to the door and opened it.

"Yes, Miss Anderson?" I said.

Even as I spoke I saw that her face was not as usual. She was as while as chalk and her eyes were big with fright, but before I could say more she was thrust aside and five men pushed through the doorway. They had revolvers.

There was no struggle -- what could John and I do against five? What, indeed, could we gain by struggling? I submitted without so much as an angry word. I tried to be unusually polite.

"Some mistake," I said. "I'm afraid you do not know who you are arresting, gentlemen."

The handcuffs were already snapped on my wrists and on John's.

"Oh, yes we do!" said the leader of the five. "We know you both. We've got you at last. You are the men higher up. You are the No. 44 we have been looking for since the war began. And now we have you!"

"Abso