The Bridgeport times and evening farmer. (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1918-1924, 1918-04-09

tion-are you in love with anyone"
The question, 1 must own. rather
staggered me, but I found myself
laughing heartily at such an unex-
pected remark. l assured Herr Muller
that 1 was not in love with anyone,
had never loved anyone but my moth
er, and very likely should never love
anyone else in this world. Whereupon
my questioner again laughed loudly.
think it was my repeated reference
to my dead mother that provoked his
mfrth-for I had formed a poor optn-
ion Of Herr Muller as a man. 1 could
see cruelty in his eyes, debauchery In
his face, and cunning at the corner
of his lips
"I find it a good thing in this life,
Fraulein, not to have ties. Every
one should be free who aspires to do
great things. 1t has just occurred to
mellow would you like to be- Che
paused a moment) "a detective?"
1 had never thought Of such pro-
position, and told him so.
you can earn much money, II you
are clever. Being an artist I should
say you have good visual memory,
eh?"
81 believe So" replied, becoming
interested at the prospect Of much
money"
What is the color of the carpet on
the flight of stairs you came up?"
Dark red with black border" I
answered promptly.
| Good Now how would you des-
cribe the person who showed you up
here?"
| "a thin man Of medium height.
aged I should say about 40. Dark hair
and eyes, rather a long nose, small
mouth with thin lips, a sharp prom
inent chin with cleft in the mid
de
Good again. OF what nationality
SHOULD you think?"
Probably a North Italian"
Excellent. You are quite right
Carlo is a Milanese."
| Now look here, Fraulein Won
Kopf," Herr Muller went on; "you
are much too superior for a private
secretaryship; at least the salary
would not tempt you am sure. If the
matter interests you I will give you
| the name and address Of a lady Of
high position who will find something
for you much more remunerative.
Will you promise to see the lady II
give you her name and address,"
I replied that I should be delight
ed.
Herr Muller sat down, took up his
fountain pen and wrote half dozen
lines. When he handed me the mis-
sive, carefully sealed in an envelope
with a green border, I noticed the
name inscribed was:
Frau Alma Orloff."
and the address: "a Roonstrasse.
"If you will call at that address
this afternoon at o'clock" said Herr
Muller, ST will see that the lady is
there to meet you. Please be pune
tual. Auf wiedersehen," Herr Muller
again extended his "feather-bed'
hand and bowed me out of his sane
tum as if I were a Duchess.
/ Little did 1 suspect as I left the
portals of the Bristol Hotel (nor for
the matter of that for long after
wards) that Herr Muller was in real
ity one of the greatest scoundrels in
Germany, the degenerate descendant
of a once noble and illustrious fam
lily, a cashiered officer, a cardsharp-
er, a felon, and one of the dirtiest
| workers employed in the Secret Ser
vice of Germany.
He was Prince Otto Hochberg.
At "a RoonstraSse
On the lower doorstep of the Brfs-
toll Hotel I paused for a moment, to
form as it were, an intelligent appre-
, citation of myself. Here was I. young
woman of good parentage and educa-
ton, possessed Of a first rate soprano
[ voice, an undoubted talent for paint
ing, linguist, and. well, fairly good
looking q have been described as
r Handsomely suddenly faced with the
, problem of earning a livelihooo-ano
f my first essay in the uncouth art OF
t getting LOB" as the English call it.
! had resulted in a suggestion that ]
: start professional career as a lady
: detective.
What is a lady-detective? I had
e heard that all the large stores in Der.
lin engaged ,ix7r- detectives" to keer
5 | an eye on persons of both sevAs w ost
e appearance or behavior suggested
r they had felonious intent. Indeed, one
n lafternoon in Wertheimer's had seer
q splendidly dressed woman pounced
4 on by stylishly dressed girl and
u