"spill the dirt" about the present tendencies of his National Socialist Party; he said he had joined
because he had believed it was a Socialist party and there were millions who felt as he did—
they wanted it to remain Socialist and they had a right to try to keep it so, and have it carry out
at least part of the program upon which it had won the faith of the German masses. Breaking
up the great landed estates, socializing basic industries and department stores, abolishing
interest slavery— these were the pledges which had been made, millions of times over. But now the
party was hand in glove with the Ruhr magnates, and the old program was forgotten; the
Führer had come under the spell of men who cared only about power, and if they could have
their way, all the energies of the country would go into military preparation and none into
social welfare.
"Yes," said Hugo, "many of the leaders feel as I do, and some of them are Hitler's oldest party
comrades. It is no threat to his leadership, but a loyal effort to make him realize the danger
and return to the true path." The young official offered to introduce Lanny to some of the men
who were active in this movement; but the visitor explained the peculiar position he was in, with
a Jewish relative in the toils of the law and the need of being discreet on his account.
That led to the subject of the Jews, and the apple-cheeked young Aryan proved that he was
loyal to his creed by denouncing this evil people and the part they had played in corrupting
German culture. But he added he did not approve the persecution of individual Jews who had
broken no law, and he thought the recent one-day boycott had been silly. It represented an
effort on the part of reactionary elements in the party to keep the people from remembering
the radical promises which had been made to them. "It's a lot cheaper and easier to beat up a
few poor Jews than to oust some of the great Junker landlords."
Lanny found this conversation promising, and ventured tactfully to give his young friend
some idea of the plight in which he found himself. His brother-in-law's brother had been
missing for more than a week, but he was afraid to initiate any inquiry for fear of arousing
those elements about which Hugo had spoken, the fanatics who were eager to find some
excuse for persecuting harmless, idealistic Jews. Lanny drew a picture of a shepherd boy out of
ancient Judea, watching his flocks, playing his pipe, and dreaming of the Lord and His angels.
Freddi Robin was a Socialist in the high sense of the word; desiring justice and kindness
among men, and willing to set an example by living a selfless life here and now. He was a fine
musician, a devoted husband and father, and his wife and mother were in an agony of dread
about him.
by heart, that unfortunate incidents were bound to happen in the course of any great social
overturn.
"For that reason," said Lanny, "each of us has to do what he can in the cases which come to
his knowledge. What I need now is some person in the party whom I can trust, and who will do
me the service to try to locate Freddi and tell me what he is accused of."
"That might not be easy," replied the other. "Such information isn't given out freely—I mean,
assuming that he's in the hands of the authorities."
"I thought, that you, having so many contacts among the better elements of the party, might
be able to make inquiries without attracting too much attention. If you would do me this favor, I
would be most happy to pay you for your time—"
"Oh, I wouldn't want any pay, Herr Budd!"
"You would certainly have to have it. The work may call for a lot of time, and there is no
other way I can make it up to you. My wife is here, and neither of us can enjoy anything,
because of worrying about this poor fellow. I assure you, she would consider a thousand marks
a small price to pay for the mental peace she would get from even knowing that Freddi is still
alive. If only I can find out where he is and what he's accused of, I may be able to go to the
proper authority and have the matter settled without any disagreeable scandal."
"If I could be sure that my name wouldn't be brought into the matter—" began the young
official, hesitatingly.
"On that I will give you my word of honor," said Lanny. "Nothing will induce either my
wife or myself to speak your name. You don't even have to give it when you call me on the
phone; just tell me that you have, say, an Arnold Boecklin painting to show me, and tell me some
place to meet you, and I'll come. Be so good as to accept two hundred marks for a start—on
the chance that you may have to pay out sums here and there."
XII
Minister-Prasident Hermann Wilhelm Goring flew to Rome unexpectedly. He had been there
once before and hadn't got along very well with his mentor, the Blessed Little Pouter Pigeon;
they were quarreling bitterly over the question of which was to control Austria. But they
