"Haven't you got a key to the garage up at the house?"
"Father has one, but I don't dare wake him now." Bob glanced at the house and the absence of lights on the first and second floors convinced him that his family were all in bed. A single light shone from a window on the third floor where Lena, the cook, slept.
"Maybe we can force a window," suggested Hugh. "You can open the door from the inside, can't you?"
"Oh, yes," said Bob. "Let's try a window anyway."
They went around the corner of the garage and the first window they tried yielded immediately. A moment later both boys had clambered inside, and presently Bob found the electric light button. As the light flooded the garage Heinrich's angora cat rose sleepily from the tonneau of the automobile and stretched himself. A cloth covering over the parrot's cage kept that garrulous bird quiet. Percy lay stretched out in the water which filled his tub.
"The dog must be out with Heinrich," said Bob.
He seated himself in the driver's seat of the car, and Hugh lifted the drowsy cat to the floor. Bob pushed a button, put his foot on the self-starter and the engine started. Heinrich always backed the car into the garage so that it was headed in the right direction as it stood. Hugh undid the spring catch on the door and rolled the door back. They were now ready to start.
"I'll go down by the street and watch the Wernbergs," said Hugh. "I hope they haven't gotten away while we have been fooling around here."
"I guess not," said Bob. "When they start you whistle twice and I'll be with you right away."
"All right," agreed Hugh. "You'd better run with your lights dimmed."
"I shall, don't worry."
Hugh hurried away. Bob was left alone in the car and he presently shut off the engine. He had wished to warm up the motor so that it would start readily when the time came; he was convinced that it would do so now.
He thought over the events of the day, and for the first time he realized that he was tired. Excitement had spurred him on and the intense interest he took in the war had made him forget all else. He wondered if he and Hugh were starting off on a wild goose chase now. What particular reason had they to suspect the Wernbergs anyway? True, all Germans were more or less under suspicion just then, but why the Wernbergs any more than the others? He recalled his fight with Frank that morning, and his father's remarks. Perhaps it was just as well to go out that night after all.
Bob thought of the war and the terrible things the Germans had done. What brutes and beasts they were! The Germans had been busy in the United States too. The big factory at Eddystone had been blown up that day, with the loss of a hundred and twenty-five lives, mostly of girls. That showed what the American people had to guard against.
"I hate them all!" muttered Bob angrily. He took that back a moment later, however, as he thought of Heinrich. Surely their chauffeur was as faithful and kindly a soul as ever lived; his love for animals proved that. Then there was Lena, their cook, a buxom woman of forty who had never been heard to utter a cross word in her life.
Heinrich was capable of getting mad, however, particularly about the car. Bob wondered what he would say if he should arrive home now, and find him preparing to go out in it and perhaps get it dirty.
His reverie was suddenly interrupted by the sound of two whistles. A moment later the motor was purring softly, and with the headlights dimmed, the big sixty horse-power car slid out of the garage and started silently down the driveway.
"They're starting," said Hugh in a low voice. He jumped upon the running board as Bob came along, and climbed into the front seat beside him. "Let's wait here a minute," he whispered.
Down the street in front of the Wernbergs' house they could see men getting into the two automobiles. Presently the whirr of the motors came to their ears and the two cars started. One came towards them and the other went in the opposite direction.
"Which one shall we follow?" whispered Bob.
"Let's follow the one going the other way."
They rolled out of the driveway and started down the street. As they turned into the avenue the first car passed them, a gray roadster bespeaking power and speed in its every detail. Two men were seated in it. Bob and Hugh obtained a fleeting glimpse of them as they flashed by. The tail light of the car they intended to follow showed a dim, red spot far down the street.
"Speed her up a little, Bob," urged Hugh. "We don't want to lose them."
"We can't keep too close to them either," said Bob. "Besides, my thumb and forefinger are pretty sore from that fuse burn and it's hard to grip the wheel."
"Mine are sore too," said Hugh. "Put on gloves."
"I haven't any with me."
"I have; take mine."
Still watching the small red dot ahead of them Bob managed to slip onHugh's right-hand glove. It was a great help to him in driving.
"They've turned a corner," exclaimed Hugh suddenly. "Faster, Bob!"
Bob pressed his foot on the accelerator and the car leaped forward as if it were a living thing. A moment later they reached the cross street and turned into it, peering anxiously ahead. The car they were following was still in sight.
"Keep about two hundred yards in back of them," Hugh advised.
"We mustn't lose them."
"No, and we don't want them to get suspicious either."
"They're turning another corner," exclaimed Bob after a few moments.
"Speed it up now that they can't see us."
Bob did so and they came to the corner just in time to see the car they were following pull up at the curb in front of a white stucco house.
"Go ahead, Bob! Go ahead!" urged Hugh. "Don't turn!"
Bob kept straight on. "What street was that?" he asked.
"Elm Street."
"Isn't that where the German on the bridge told Harold he lived?"
"Why so it is," exclaimed Hugh.
"I wonder what number that house is."
"I don't know. Let's see, Howard Seeley lives on Elm Street, just the next block down; his number is eleven hundred and something."
"The German told Harold he lived at twelve eighty-two, and I'll bet you that was the house."
"Whew!" whistled Hugh. "I wonder if it was."
"They probably went to find out why the bridge wasn't blown up to-night," said Bob. "Do you suppose that could be it?"
"Maybe. We could have told them quicker if they'd come to us though," chuckled Hugh. "They'll probably give that fellow the mischief for failing."
"They can't get at him if he's in jail."
"That's so. Suppose we're called as witnesses at his trial? They'll learn that we spoiled their game and our lives won't be worth two cents."
"Well, if those men are plotters we must prove it before the case even comes to trial."
"Do you suppose they have a regular organization to blow up everything around here that they can?" said Hugh. "I should think the secret service would get after them."
"Probably it has; no doubt the names of all those men are listed."
"That is, if they really are plotters."
"Of course. Where are you going!"
They had kept straight on down the road and were now on the outskirts of the city. The houses were fewer and more scattered all the time and presently the boys would be in the open country.
"I don't know," said Bob. "I was just going ahead without thinking."
"We'd better go back, hadn't we? We must be about three miles from home."
"There's a road up ahead here to the right," said Bob. "We can turn down there and go back that way."
When they were about two hundred yards distant from the road in question, an automobile came out of it and turned into the main highway. A moment later it was speeding along in front of Bob and Hugh, the roar of its cutout coming faintly to their ears.
"Bob," exclaimed Hugh excitedly, "that's the gray roadster!"
"What gray roadster?"
"The one we passed in front of your house. It came from the Wernbergs'."
"Shall we follow it?"
"Certainly. It's going like the wind though."
"Well, it can't lose us," said Bob grimly. He advanced the spark, gave the motor more gas and they were soon tearing through the night at fifty miles an hour. Over the crest of a hill in front of them, the gray roadster was outlined for a moment and then disappeared.
Up the grade of the hill Bob drove the big car. When they arrived at the top they peered ahead anxiously for any sign of the machine they followed. Nothing was to be seen of it.
"It's gone," exclaimed Hugh.
"Perhaps not," said Bob. "It can't be very far ahead of us anyway."
They continued down the road at breakneck speed, passing through a clump of woods that lined both sides. Bob forced the motor to its utmost, but no sign of the gray roadster could they discover. Finally he brought the car to a dead stop and turned to Hugh.
"What became of that car?" he demanded. "They weren't far enough ahead of us to have gotten out of sight so quickly."
"They must have turned off into another road," said Hugh. "I don't see what else could have happened."
"But there are no roads into which they could have turned."
"Are you sure?"
"Positively."
Both boys relapsed into silence, completely mystified by the strangeness of the thing. Apparently the roadster had vanished from the face of the earth.
"Wait a minute," cried Bob suddenly. "There is a road back there too."
"I thought there must be."
"Remember those woods back there, just this side of the hill?"
"Yes. That's where we used to go for chestnuts in the fall."
"That's the place. Remember the old house back in there?"
"It's deserted and tumble-down."
"I know it, but there's an old wagon road leading to it."
"Do you think that is where they went?" exclaimed Hugh in surprise.
"Where else could they have gone?"
"I don't know, I'm sure."
"Shall we go back there and see?"
"We can't run the car in there."
"Why not? We can if they can."
"Suppose we should meet them coming out?"
"That's right," exclaimed Bob. "I tell you what we can do though. We'll run back down the road and leave the car and then go to the old house on foot."
"Good scheme," said Hugh readily. "We can hide the car somewhere I suppose."
"Oh, yes. We'll leave it a little way off the road under some trees."
A few moments later Bob had turned the car around and they were speeding back in the direction whence they had come.
"You know where the road is, don't you?" asked Hugh.
"I do," said Bob confidently. "We'll leave the car about a quarter of a mile this side of it and then walk."
"I wonder if they could have gone to that old deserted house," mused Hugh.
"Maybe. I swear I don't see why though."
"We're probably chasing moonbeams," said Hugh.
"Perhaps we are, but we're having a lot of fun anyway."
"Of course we are," exclaimed Hugh, "and I'm for going ahead."
A moment later Bob slowed down the car. A clump of trees appeared alongside the road, and shifting into second speed Bob carefully steered his course toward them. In the shadow of the trees he stopped, shut off the motor, turned off the lights, and stepped out. Hugh got out on the other side.
"Here we are," whispered Bob. "I guess it's all right to leave the car here."
"I should think so," Hugh agreed. "We're about fifteen yards from the road and I don't believe any one would notice it in here."
They started down the road, keeping well to one side, so that they would not show up against the faint white ribbon of the highway as it stretched through the country. After a walk of about five minutes Bob halted.
"There's the road," he whispered, pointing ahead.
"Come on then," urged Hugh. "Carefully now."
It was a weird sensation to be stealing along in the darkness, and the hearts of both boys were pounding. They turned from the main road and started down the narrow wagon track through the woods. It was much darker there and difficult to pick one's path.
A dry twig snapped under Hugh's foot and the boys stopped short, their breath coming fast. The hoot of an owl directly overhead startled them violently and unconsciously they clutched each other's arm. The giant trees loomed black and forbidding in the darkness, and it was easy to imagine all kinds of things lurking behind to spring out at them.
"I don't like this," whispered Hugh. "How far is it from here?"
"Just a short distance. I don't like it either."
Presently Bob tugged at Hugh's sleeve. "There's a light," he said softly.
A faint glimmer appeared through the darkness ahead. Presently the boys were able to see that it came from a lantern held by some man standing in the open doorway of the old house. A moment later four others appeared from within and came out to the tumble-down porch. Bob and Hugh looked on with bated breath. What could it all mean?
The man with the lantern advanced to the edge of the porch, holding the lantern at arm's length and shoulder high. In the flickering light Bob and Hugh could see the others putting on their overcoats. Presently there was a flash of light as the powerful searchlights of an automobile were turned on; only for a second or two, however, as they were quickly extinguished.
"There's the gray roadster," whispered Hugh.
The two boys were crouched behind a fallen tree, an obstruction they had been on the point of climbing when they had spied the lantern. They could hear the men walking about near the house, and frequently could even catch the sound of voices.
Presently they heard the whirr of a motor. Dimmed lights were turned on in the roadster and soon it started.
"Lie low," whispered Hugh. "They mustn't see us."
Bob needed no cautioning on that score, however.
The car rumbled toward them as if it were feeling its way. The wagon-road was some ten yards to the left of the spot where the two boys were concealed. Directly to it the roadster went, its two glowing eyes giving it the appearance of some gigantic bug. With bated breath Hugh and Bob watched its progress. Presently it passed them and lumbered away over the rough road.
"How many men were in it?" whispered Hugh.
"Three, I think."
"There were only two when we passed it in front of your house."
"I know it. There must be a couple more men here, too."
"Ssh," hissed Hugh softly, grasping his companion by the wrist.
Voices could be heard, coming nearer and nearer to their hiding place. Once again the two boys almost stopped breathing while they waited for the speakers to pass. They could make out two shadowy forms following the same course taken by the automobile. The two men conversed earnestly together in tones so low, that the listeners could not overhear what was said. After a few moments the sound of the voices died away and Hugh and Bob were left alone. That is, they were alone as far as they could tell.
"Well," said Hugh finally. "They're gone."
"Seems so," admitted Bob. "We can't be sure though."
"Were those men talking German?"
"I couldn't tell."
"Neither could I for sure, but I thought they were."
"Probably so," said Bob. "At any rate it looks to me as if there was some queer business going on in this place."
"It certainly does. I wonder what's in that house?"
"Shall we go and see?"
"You don't catch me in that house at this time of night," saidHugh grimly.
"How about coming out here to-morrow, then?"
"To-morrow's Saturday, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"All right," said Hugh. "I'll come out with you."
"And now we'd better go home."
"I guess we had. It must be nearly midnight."
They arose from their cramped positions on the ground and stealthily began to retrace their steps. They were even more wary on their way out than they had been going in, for they could not be sure that they would not meet some of the men they had seen about the old house. Just before they came to the end of the wagon-road they heard the sound of a motor and saw the lights of an automobile speeding down the main road in the direction of High Ridge.
"Sounds like our car," said Bob. "All those motors make the same sort of noise."
"Pretty good ears you have," remarked Hugh.
"You ought to see old Heinie," said Bob. "He may look stupid, but he can tell almost any make of car just by the noise it makes."
"What'll he say when you get home?" queried Hugh.
"He'll be mad. He doesn't think I know how to drive the car, and if there is any dirt on it he'll be madder yet."
"The roads aren't muddy now though."
"I know it, but he'll be cross if there's dust on it even."
They emerged on the main road, looked carefully in both directions, and then still keeping to the side of the road, started back toward the spot where they had left the car. A ghostly moon, in its last quarter, shed its pale light on the highway, and aided the boys to distinguish their surroundings.
"There's the place," said Bob a moment later.
They ran quickly across the road and hurried towards the clump of trees where they had hidden the car. Both boys would feel relieved when they were seated in their conveyance once more, and on their way home. It was nervous work prowling around the countryside at night with a suspicious gang of men lurking near.
Bob and Hugh hurried along side by side and presently came to the patch of trees, which was their destination. A feeling of relief came over them that soon they would be speeding back to High Ridge.
Suddenly Bob uttered an exclamation of surprise and stopped short.
"The car is gone," he gasped.
At first the two boys were too amazed to speak. They stared blankly at the spot where the car had been concealed. It now was nowhere to be seen.
"Is this the place?" exclaimed Hugh, the first to regain his senses.
"I know it is," said Bob. "I ran the car right up under that big birch tree so that I could surely mark the spot."
"Well!" gasped Hugh, unable to say more.
"What'll we do?" Bob almost sobbed. "Some one has stolen the car, and it is all my fault. What will father say?"
"You'll have to tell him the circumstances," said Hugh lamely. "I don't know what else you can do."
"But the car is gone," insisted Bob, his mind unable to grasp any idea beyond that. "The car is gone."
"Maybe it'll come back," said Hugh. "Stolen cars are often recovered."
He lighted a match and held it close to the ground. There were the marks made by the tires in the damp earth. There was no doubt that this was the place.
"Who could have taken it?" demanded Bob.
Both boys were silent and the same thought flashed through their minds at once.
"One of those men from that old house," said Hugh.
"They must have had sentries posted," said Bob and he glanced about him nervously. "Probable they watched us leave it here and when we went back into the woods they took it. Probably they followed us and watched us all the time too; very likely they're watching us now."
"Let's go home," exclaimed Hugh. "I've had enough of this."
"But the car," protested Bob.
"It's gone, isn't it?" said Hugh. "We can't find it by just standing around here. The best thing we can do is to hurry back to High Ridge as fast as we can and report it to police headquarters."
"It's over three miles," said Bob.
"Suppose it is," Hugh exclaimed. "Suppose it was twenty miles: we'd have to go just the same. We may get a lift on the way."
"Not at this time of night."
"Anyway we'd better start; we may be in danger here."
This latter consideration had great weight with Bob. He realized that enemies of one kind or another were there, or had been recently, in that neighborhood and he had no desire to meet them, unarmed as he was. His judgment also told him that Hugh's suggestion about reporting the loss of the car to the police was the only feasible one under the circumstances.
"Come on," he urged. "Let's go home."
"Some one may come along and offer us a ride," said Hugh hopefully.
"I'm afraid there won't be many people out at this time of night," returned Bob disconsolately. "I wish I knew what had happened to the car."
They proceeded in silence, glancing about them nervously for fear that they might be the victims of some further surprise. For a half-mile they kept to the side of the road, for little as they cared to walk where the darkness was thickest, they knew they would not be as exposed there as they would be in the middle of the road. When they reached the top of the hill, however, they became bolder and ventured out upon the paved highway.
They walked swiftly, every few yards one or the other of the boys turning to glance behind them to see if they were followed. The night was clear, and the stars were shining brilliantly; hardly a breath of air was stirring. Presently they came within sight of the town, and the sound of the clock on the town hall striking one came faintly to their ears.
"Whew," said Bob, "it's late."
"I should say so," Hugh agreed, "and I was just thinking of everything we have done to-day. We've certainly been busy."
"We may be even busier to-morrow."
"Why so?"
"Well, if we go back to that house again, you can't tell what we'll get into."
"I wonder if we ought to report to the police what we've seen."
"Probably we should," said Bob. "I'd like to go it alone though."
"And so should I. Let's wait a day or two longer anyway."
"I hope it won't be too late then."
"We'll risk it anyway," said Hugh. "Look, here comes an automobile."
"It's going the wrong way for us. Get over on the side of the road."
In the distance appeared the headlights of an automobile rapidly approaching. The two boys hurried to one side of the road and took up their positions behind the shelter of some low growing bushes. The car was traveling fast and as it neared the spot where they were concealed they could hear the thunder of the cutout. A moment later it roared past them and disappeared.
"Hugh," exclaimed Bob. "The gray roadster!"
"It was for sure!" said Hugh. "What do you think of that?"
"It was going back to the old house probably."
"I guess it was. Perhaps after all, we should report to the police."
"Wait till after to-morrow," said Bob. "We'll go out in the morning and take a look around there on our own account."
"We may have to spend to-morrow looking for your car."
"That's true, but let's wait and see what happens anyway."
They continued on their way homeward and soon came within the outskirts of the town. The houses were darkened and apparently every one was in bed and asleep. The sound of the boys' footsteps on the pavements echoed loudly along the still, deserted streets.
"Here's Elm Street," said Hugh. "Let's turn down here; it's on our way home and we can pass right by that stucco house."
"All right," Bob agreed, and they turned the corner.
"That's the place," whispered Hugh a few moments later.
"There's a light in the third story," said Bob in a low tone.
"Perhaps they're waiting up for that German bomb planter," chuckledHugh. "I guess he won't be home to-night."
"Don't joke about it, Hugh. I feel sorry for the man's family."
"So do I, but I don't feel sorry for him."
"I should say not! Anything they do to him won't be half bad enough."
"The snake," muttered Hugh. "I'd like to have one look inside that room up there though and see what is going on." He glanced up at the lighted window questioningly. As he did so the shade was thrown up and the window opened by some man who thrust his head out and looked around. Bob and Hugh shrank back within the shadow of a nearby tree. They caught only a fleeting glimpse of the man's face, and saw that it was no one they knew. He had closely cropped hair and a bristling mustache turned up at the ends.
"Who do you suppose that was?" whispered Bob a moment later, as the man they watched withdrew his head and shut the window.
"Never saw him before," said Hugh.
"He looked like a German though. Let's get home before he comes outside and begins to prowl around."
Walking on the ground so that they would not make any noise they hurried on. A few moments later they stood in front of the Cooks' house.
"There's a light in your house too," said Hugh. "This and that house onElm Street are the only ones where people seem to be awake."
"That's Lena's room," said Bob.
"The cook?"
"Yes."
"She's a German, isn't she?"
"Look here, Hugh," laughed Bob. "You can't make me suspicious about Lena. She has been our cook ever since I was born. She's the most faithful and kindhearted woman that ever lived. Why she's practically one of the family."
"Then what is she doing up there all this time?" demanded Hugh. "Her room was lighted up when we started out."
"I don't know what she's doing," said Bob. "Reading, maybe. You can't get me excited about her, and just because some Germans are disloyal you mustn't think they all are."
"All right," said Hugh. "I'd watch them all though."
"You're crazy," said Bob. "What I want to know is what happened to our automobile. Tomorrow morning before breakfast you'll see me on my way to police headquarters to report it. Heinie was going to fix the puncture in my bicycle to-day and I'll go down on that."
"Will you telephone to me about eight o'clock?"
"I will," said Bob, "and if there's nothing we can do about the automobile well take our bicycles and ride out to the old deserted house."
"Good, and now we'd better sneak to bed, for we shan't get much sleep as it is."
"All right. Good night."
"Good night," said Hugh and turned off down the street.
Bob made his way quietly across the lawn towards the house, glancing up curiously once or twice at the lighted window in Lena's room. As he looked the light went out. "Poor old Hugh," he thought. "How silly he is to be suspicious of Lena." He tiptoed up the steps and across the porch, let himself in carefully with his latch key, and stole upstairs.
He wished to get into bed without waking any of the family, and was successful in this, for soon he was snugly under the covers without having disturbed any one. It was a long time before sleep came to him, however. He was greatly worried about the loss of the car and he dreaded having to tell his father about it the next day. Of course his father would understand, but no one could be blamed for being upset at the loss of a new automobile, particularly as the result of what might prove to be a wild goose chase.
Heinrich too would be furious, and Bob expected their chauffeur to knock on his door at any moment and demand where the automobile was. Heinrich did not go to bed until the car was safely in the garage, and as a rule he washed it no matter how late the hour was.
Bob's black eye throbbed somewhat too, his fingers smarted from the burn of the lighted fuse, and his brain was reeling with the events of the day. At length, however, he fell asleep and strange to say he slept dreamlessly. He had taken care to set his alarm-clock for half-past six and it seemed to him that his eyes had been closed only a very few minutes when it went off close beside his ear. He clutched it quickly and stifled the alarm so as not to awaken the rest of the household; a moment later he had jumped out of bed and was getting into his clothes.
He glanced out of the window and saw that it was light outside. The early morning sun shone on the bare limbs of the trees and made them glisten. Here and there a bud could be seen almost ready to burst its shell and Bob rejoiced to see signs of the coming of spring and summer. He was not happy, however, for the loss of the car weighed him down and oppressed him. Even the awakening beauties of nature did not cheer him up and that was unusual in Bob's case.
A few moments later he was fully dressed except for his shoes. He held them in one hand, and in his stocking feet slipped out of his room and stole downstairs. He opened the front door carefully and then sat down on the steps to put on his shoes. As he busied himself a bicycle passed along the street in front of the house, and Bob recognized the rider as Frank Wernberg.
"What's he doing out at this time of day?" muttered Bob angrily. He sat motionless and as Frank did not look toward the house he decided that he had not been seen. Bob yawned, rubbed his eyes sleepily, and stretched. He suddenly recalled the loss of the automobile, and jumping to his feet started toward the garage.
As he came near he saw that the front door of the garage was open. That was queer, he thought, as Heinrich never left it open at night. Then he recalled that he and Hugh had left it open the night before and that probably Heinrich had left it undisturbed so that they could run in the car without trouble when they returned. Heinrich had no doubt come in and gone to sleep, and had not yet discovered that the car was missing.
Imagine Bob's surprise therefore when he turned the corner of the building and saw the car standing in its accustomed place. Heinrich was washing it as if nothing in the world had happened.
Bob stopped and stared in amazement. He could scarcely believe his eyes. There was the car that had disappeared so mysteriously the night before, in its right place, and undamaged as far as he could see.
"Heinrich," he exclaimed in amazement.
The chauffeur, a hose in one hand, a big sponge in the other, and wearing high rubber boots, looked up inquiringly.
"What are you doing up so early?" he asked.
"Where did the car come from?" demanded Bob.
Heinrich straightened up and gazed at Bob.
"What you mean?" he inquired.
"Who brought the car home?"
"How do I know? Maybe your father use it last night. Whoever do it, get it all covered mit dust."
"But," stammered Bob, "the car was stolen."
"What!" exclaimed Heinrich. "What you talking about?"
"What time did you get in last night?" Bob inquired, becoming more and more anxious and bewildered every moment.
"Twelve o'clock," said Heinrich. "What you mean the car iss stolen?"
"Was it here when you came home?"
"Certainly it was here. What you talking about?"
"I don't know," said Bob weakly, and he sat down on the running board and passed his hand across his brow.
"Are you sick?" asked Heinrich anxiously. "You look pale."
"I'm not sick," said Bob. "I guess I'm crazy," and he held his head in both hands, staring blankly at the floor.
Heinrich did not know what to make of the strange behavior of his employer's son. He stared at him curiously, and it was plain to see that he was telling the truth in all he said.
"What you mean the car iss stolen?" he inquired finally.
"Nothing," said Bob blankly. "It's too much for me."
"I go to a party last night," said Heinrich. "I come home late and the door here iss open. Here iss the car too. Why you think it stolen?"
"I don't know," said Bob. "I guess I must have dreamt it."
"You are sick," exclaimed Heinrich. "You had better go back and go to bed. If you wish I go with you to the house."
"No," said Bob. "I'm all right." He rose to his feet dazedly, looked in bewilderment at the car again and started out.
"I have a loss," said Heinrich, convinced that Bob was probably all right.
"What's that?" demanded Bob, turning around.
"Burglars," said Heinrich.
"Where? In the garage here?"
"Yes. Last night," and Heinrich brushed a tear from his eye.
"You did?" exclaimed Bob. "They didn't steal all that money you had yesterday, did they?"
"No," said Heinrich sorrowfully. "I almost wish they had. They steal Percy."
"Percy," cried Bob, greatly relieved. "Why should any one steal him?"
"I do not know. I come down this morning and I look in the tub to say good-morning to Percy. The tub iss here, but Percy iss gone."
"There are some queer things going on around here, Heinie," said Bob.
"I like to catch the man what steal him," said Heinrich fiercely.
"I'd like to catch lots of people," said Bob. "Maybe he fell out of the tub."
"He could not do that," exclaimed Heinrich. "The sides iss too high."
"Well, it's certainly strange." Bob went out of the garage and started slowly back toward the house. Heinrich, sorrowing over the loss of his alligator, with a sigh took up the sponge and hose again and fell to washing the car once more.
Bob returned to his room, washed his face and hands, something he had neglected to do before, and went downstairs again. He glanced at the morning newspaper, full of war news and preparations for war; one column told of the arrest of many Germans all over the country, men who were suspected of caring more for the Fatherland than they did for the United States.
There was no mention of the bomb episode on the railroad bridge the night before, however. Bob knew that the authorities would not permit the publication of any such items if they could prevent it so he was not surprised. Presently the rest of the family appeared and they went in to breakfast.
Mr. Cook's mail was lying on the table by his plate; it was his custom every morning to glance it over while he was eating. While Mrs. Cook talked to Bob about Harold, her husband looked through his letters. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of surprise. "Here's a queer thing," he said.
"What?" demanded Mrs. Cook anxiously. She had been very nervous lately.
"This postcard," said Mr. Cook. "Listen to what it says. 'Take the advice of one who knows and keep your automobile home at night.'"
Bob turned pale. "What does it mean!" inquired Mrs. Cook.
"I'm sure I don't know," said her husband.
"How is it signed?"
"It is not signed at all."
"I can't imagine what it's all about," said Mr. Cook. "As far as I know, our car hasn't been out of the garage at night for over a week."
"Perhaps Heinrich has had it out," Mrs. Cook suggested.
"I'll ask him right after breakfast," said Mr. Cook. "They must have mistaken our car for some one else's."
"Who do you suppose sent it?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said her husband musingly. "At any rate I thinkI shall turn it over to the police; I don't like the look of it."
Throughout this conversation Bob sat silent. He thought perhaps he could explain part of the mystery to his father, but he was puzzled as to whether he ought to do so or not. On the other hand if his father called in the police, he knew that he and Hugh would have small chance of clearing up the matter themselves.
"It worries me so, Robert," exclaimed Mrs. Cook. "I am so afraid that something will happen to you, especially as you are making war supplies at the factory now."
"The plant is guarded," said her husband. "Besides I think I owe it to my country to help all I can, don't you?"
"Of course, but suppose some of your guards are treacherous."
"They are all trusted employees of American birth."
"No Germans at all?"
"The man in charge at night has parents born in Germany; you know him, Karl Hoffmann, the one who wants to marry Lena. He is just as faithful and true as she is. I can vouch for all the others as well."
"He's all right I guess," said Mrs. Cook with a smile. "Even if Heinrich doesn't like him." Heinrich and Karl Hoffmann were rivals for Lena's affections, and they despised each other. Lena, however, seemed to like them both equally well, or at least she did not care enough about either to marry him.
Bob used to delight in teasing Heinrich about his rival. When Karl was on the premises Heinrich would sulk in the garage and mutter threats against him. Karl was twice Heinrich's size, but the little blue-eyed, spectacled chauffeur never seemed to question his ability to deal with him.
Mr. Cook rose from the table. "I'll go down and ask Heinrich about this car business," he said, "and then I'll go down to the office." He kissed Mrs. Cook and Louise and left the room. Bob followed him out. His father put on his coat and hat and stepped out onto the front porch. A sudden resolution seized Bob.
"Father," he said.
"What is it, Bob?" asked Mr. Cook, turning to glance at his son.
"I think I can explain about the car."
"You can?" exclaimed his father in surprise, looking curiously at Bob's pale face.
"Yes, sir," said Bob, nervously. "It's a sort of a long story. Shall I tell it all?"
"Certainly. Come out here to the summer house."
They walked in silence to the little rustic house on the lawn and sat down side by side on the rough wooden seat. Bob was excited, but still determined that the best thing for him to do was to tell his father the whole story. He knew his father would understand and see things from his point of view; they were more like two brothers than a father and son.
"Hugh and I had the car out last night," said Bob, and then he began at the beginning and related the entire story through to the end. He told of their visit to the armory, their meeting with Harold on the bridge, the narrow escape with the bomb, their decision to watch the Wernbergs' house, their trip to the deserted house, the disappearance of the automobile, and finally its strange return.
Mr. Cook listened intently throughout the whole narrative, one exclamation as Bob told of the bomb episode being his sole interruption.
"That card must have been sent by the one that brought the car back," said Bob.
"It would seem so," his father agreed, and fell silent, thinking.
"That was a close call you boys had with that bomb," he said finally.
"Yes, sir," said Bob.
"What have you planned to do to-day?"
"We were going to report the loss of the car to police headquarters and then go out to the deserted house again, to see what we could find."
"You weren't going to say anything to the police about it?"
"No, sir."
"That might be dangerous, you know."
"Yes, sir," said Bob. "We wanted to solve the thing ourselves if we could though."
"I don't know about that," said Mr. Cook musingly. "I hate to think of you two boys fooling around out there with a lot of desperate men around."
"Don't do anything until this afternoon anyway," Bob pleaded.
Mr. Cook thought for a minute. "All right," he agreed. "Ill wait until after luncheon. Do you and Hugh expect to go out there this morning?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you got a gun?"
"No, we haven't."
"Well, there's an automatic pistol and two boxes of cartridges in the second drawer of my bureau. Go up and get them before you start, for I think you ought to be armed. And above all don't say anything about it to your mother."
"Certainly not," exclaimed Bob, much excited that his father was helping them.
"Be careful," warned his father. "I'll be home for luncheon and we'll talk more then."
Heinrich appeared with the car and Mr. Cook got in and was soon on the way to his office. Bob hurried into the house to telephone to Hugh and possess himself of his father's automatic pistol.
Hugh promised to hurry over as fast as he could, and he could tell from the tone of Bob's voice that something stirring was on foot. Bob had answered his question about the car evasively and he was anxious to hear the latest developments. Consequently by the time that Bob had tucked the pistol safely in his back pocket and had gone to the garage for his bicycle, Hugh appeared.
Bob related the story of the car and its strange return, and also told about the postal card his father had received that morning. The mystery seemed to deepen rather than clear up, and both boys were profoundly mystified by the strange events of the previous day.
"Your eye's better anyway," remarked Hugh.
"Yes," said Bob. "But I may get another one to-day."
"We'll hope not. When do you want to start?''
"Right away."
"Come ahead then," and jumping on their bicycles the two boys pedalled out of the yard. Little did they dream that bright April morning, as they rode along, that they were headed for adventures which would make the events that had gone before appear mild in comparison.
"Somebody stole Percy," said Bob when they had ridden a little way.
"The alligator?"
"Yes. Heinrich's pet, you know."
"Why should any one want to do that?"
"I can't imagine, and poor old Heinie is all broken up about it. I've never seen any one who liked animals as much as he does."
"Who do you suppose did it?"
"I've no idea. Perhaps the man who returned the car stole him and is planning to wait until he grows big and then train him to come and bite us," laughed Bob.
"Let's hope not," smiled Hugh. "There are too many strange things going on for me to understand just now. My brain is all mixed up."
"And so's mine. I should like to know who sent that postal card though."
"Perhaps we'll get on the trail of it when we get to the deserted house."
"Do you suppose we can break in?"
"Perhaps we can. I've brought an electric flashlight along that may come in handy."
"A good idea," exclaimed Bob. "I have an idea myself."
"What's that?"
"We'd better not ride too far down the road. Let's leave our wheels this side of the hill, and then go across the country and come in to the house from the back. In that way I think we'll stand less chance of being seen."
"Probably you're right. At any rate I hope no one steals our bicycles."
"I wonder if they'd be returned," said Bob. "Wasn't that a queer thing?"
"It certainly was."
They rode in silence for some time and presently came within sight of the hill of which they had been speaking. They dismounted from their bicycles, and wheeling them by their sides started across the fields. A hundred yards from the main road they concealed them under a clump of bushes and then continued on their way. They walked for about a half-mile until they saw the fringe of the woods in the middle of which stood the deserted house.
"Bob," said Hugh suddenly. "I know who took your automobile."
"What?" exclaimed Bob. "What are you talking about?"
"I know who took your automobile."
"Who!"
"Heinrich."
Bob burst out laughing. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "How could Heinrich take it? Hugh, you're going crazy."
"Isn't Heinrich a German?"
"He is."
"Weren't there a lot of Germans meeting out here in the old house last night?"
"We think so. I still don't see what that has to do with Heinie."
"How do you know Heinrich wasn't here?" asked Hugh.
"You mean that Heinrich is a plotter?" exclaimed Bob, suddenly realizing what his friend was driving at.
"He might bear watching," said Hugh. "He and that German cook of yours."
"They're both honest and reliable," exclaimed Bob warmly.
"Well," said Hugh, "I heard a story last night about two men coming to a house where they had a nice 'honest and reliable' German girl and demanding to see her. The owner of the house refused, and the men then showed secret service badges. Of course when he saw the badges he had to do as they said and he called in the girl. As soon as she came into the room one of the men went up to her and grabbed hold of her hair. Well, sir, it came right off her head and then they discovered that the maid was nothing more nor less than a man, a German in disguise, trying to get information for his government."
"Is that a true story?" exclaimed Bob in amazement.
"The man in whose house it happened told it to father," said Hugh. "It only goes to show that you can't be too careful. I wouldn't be too sure about Heinrich and Lena if I were you. The Germans are a bad lot and I suspect them all."
"Perhaps," said Bob. "Still Heinie and Lena are different."
"They may be tools of Mr. Wernberg for all you know."
"You're foolish," exclaimed Bob. "Why even if they weren't loyal to theUnited States they'd be loyal to father and mother. I know that."
Hugh shrugged his shoulders. "It sounds fishy to me, that's all," he said. "Didn't Heinrich say he went to a party last night? How do you know the party wasn't held out here, and that he just happened to run across your car and decided to bring it home."
"If he had he would have washed the car last night, not this morning."
"Why so?"
"Because he's so methodical, like all the Germans. He never could have slept if he had known the car was dirty."
"Why, Bob," Hugh protested, "Heinrich says he didn't come in until twelve o'clock and he says the car was there then. Why didn't he notice that it was dirty then? I'd like to know."
"He probably didn't light but one light in the garage and didn't notice it."
"Sounds likely," snorted Hugh. "Take my advice and watch 'em both."
"They're just as faithful as you or I," exclaimed Bob. "You can't talk me into getting suspicious of those two."
"The faithful ones are the ones to suspect," said Hugh grimly.
"Nonsense," said Bob, but his friend's words nevertheless set him to thinking. What if Heinrich and Lena should turn out to be working in the interests of Germany? He recalled the light in Lena's room the night before, and then he thought of all the money Heinrich had had and how embarrassed and uneasy he had been when Bob spoke of it. Ugly stories of Germans crowded through his mind, but he refused to believe that their two servants were of that sort.
Presently they reached the edge of the woods. The wagon road they had followed the night before ran all the way through the stretch and a break in the trees a short distance away showed where it came out on that side.
"We must go carefully now," warned Hugh. "How far in is the old house?"
"Oh, about a quarter of a mile," said Bob. "I don't believe any one is apt to be out here in the daytime." He felt for his back pocket, however, and the knowledge that he had a revolver with him was most reassuring.
They stole along through the woods, stepping softly and keeping a sharp lookout in all directions. All was silent, however, and seemingly they were alone. Before long they were able to glimpse the old deserted house through the trees. They stopped and gazed at it intently.
It was two stories high and of wood. Years had evidently passed since any one had lived there and the house was in need of repairing. Some of the shutters were missing, others sagged or were hanging limply from the frames, the glass in most of the windows was broken, and the wind and weather had stripped practically all the paint from the sides of the abandoned dwelling. The cellar door was missing and all in all the place presented a forlorn and desolate appearance. Hugh and Bob both recalled tales of ghosts connected with the old house, and somehow now that they were there they wished they had stayed at home.
"Perhaps we ought to report this business to the police after all," whispered Hugh.
"Yes," said Bob. "Still I'd hate to go home and tell father that we didn't even go inside the place."
"That's true," Hugh agreed. "What shall we do?"
"Let's walk around it and see if we can see anything suspicious."
"All right. We'd better keep in the shelter of the woods though."
"Oh, yes, of course."
Remaining almost a hundred feet distant from the little clearing, in the center of which stood the house, the boys began to walk. Save for an occasional nervous glance about them they never took their eyes off the deserted dwelling. When they came to the wagon-road they darted across quickly, fearful lest they should be discovered. Their progress was slow and an hour had elapsed when they returned to their starting point.
"I don't believe any one is there," whispered Bob.
"It doesn't look so. Shall we go in?"
"I suppose so," said Bob, though it was plain to be seen that neither boy much relished the task. However they dared not go home and report failure to Mr. Cook, so presently they ventured forth from the woods and started across the clearing. The cellar door was open and toward this they made their way.
A gentle breeze rattled one of the shutters, causing the boys to start nervously. Bob kept his hand on his hip pocket and they walked closely together. Presently they came to the cellar steps and peered in cautiously. Their faces were pale, as gingerly they walked down the stone steps and entered the gloomy cellar.
"Flash your light," whispered Bob.
Hugh did so, and a huge gray rat scuttled across the floor, startling the boys so that they almost cried out. Little by little their courage returned, however, and they advanced a few steps. They listened intently, but no sound came to their ears. Hugh's flashlight revealed the stairs leading to the first floor and stepping noiselessly the boys approached.
Slowly and very cautiously they ascended and presently came to the top of the stairs. Bob was in the lead, his pistol gripped tightly in one hand. With his free hand he pushed the door open gently and looked within. The kitchen was deserted, a broken-down stove in one corner, a water heater covered with dirt and rust, a sagging sink, and two battered chairs and a table completing the furnishings. A soft breeze entered through a broken window and gently stirred the strip of wall paper hanging limply from the ceiling.
Bob beckoned to Hugh and they emerged into the room. They listened intently. Not a sound was to be heard. Reassured they passed out of the kitchen through a narrow back hall, and into the parlor. The same aspect of neglect and decay was everywhere evident, but nothing suspicious was to be seen.
"Shall we go upstairs?" whispered Bob.
"We might as well. I don't believe there's any one here anyway."
The stairs leading to the second floor creaked and groaned under the weight of the boys, but as they were now convinced that the house was uninhabited they were not worried. Coming to the second story they proceeded to the room located in the front of the house.
"This must be the place," whispered Bob excitedly.
A table stood in the center of the room; around it were grouped five seats, chairs and old boxes, as if five men had had a meeting or conference there.
"This is where they had their meeting last night," said Hugh. "Here are places for five men, and we saw that many come out."
"Yes, sir," echoed Bob. "This looks like headquarters."
"Suppose we could expose them," exclaimed Hugh. "Wouldn't it be great?"
"If we only could," said Bob eagerly. "Let's look around."
Pen and ink, together with a pad of writing paper were lying on the table. Besides the table and seats, however, there was no furniture in the room, and there seemed small promise of anything of interest to the two searchers. They lifted every box and searched under it, but all in vain. Finally Bob looked behind the door. With an exclamation of delight he stooped and picked up a piece of paper lying upon the floor.
"What is it, Bob?" inquired Hugh eagerly.
"I don't know. I can't see very well."
"Bring it over here by the window. It's awfully dark and gloomy in this room."
Bob followed this suggestion, and presently was reading what was written on the paper. Hugh looked on over his shoulder.
"'List of places to be attacked.'" Bob read. "'Railroad bridge, Court House, Armory, National Cartridge Company, High Ridge Steel Company. More to be added later.'"
"This looks like the real thing," exclaimed Bob excitedly. "I wonder if they plan to take these in order. At any rate we fooled them once on the railroad bridge."
"Yes," said Hugh, "and we want to fool them on the others if we can."
"They've got father's factory listed," exclaimed Bob. "I was afraid they would; the Germans don't like him. He's too good an American."
"Some one must have dropped that paper by mistake," said Hugh. "They never would have left anything like that lying around."
"Suppose they discover they've left it and come back after it."
Both boys looked nervously out of the window, but all they saw was the little clearing and the quiet trees, swaying gently under the light breeze.
"Isn't it signed?" asked Hugh.
"No."
"Look on the back; there may be something there."
Bob turned over the sheet of paper. "No writing," he said. "There's a picture here though."
"What is it?"
"I can't see very well. It looks like some sort of a bug."
"It looks like an alligator," said Hugh, taking the paper from Bob and examining it closely.
"Let me see," exclaimed Bob. "That's what it is," he announced a moment later. "What do you suppose is the idea of that?"
"I'm sure I don't know. Probably some man was just trying to amuse himself by drawing pictures, and happened to draw an alligator."
"Maybe it's a picture of Percy," laughed Bob.
"Say," exclaimed Hugh suddenly, "it's strange, though. Heinie's alligator was probably stolen by the man that returned the car, and whoever returned the car was probably out here at this meeting. What's the connection?"
"I don't believe there is any," said Bob. "You're too suspicious, Hugh."
"Won't you admit that it's queer?"
"Of course I will, but I think it also proves that Heinie couldn't have been the one who returned our car last night. That is, if you think the man who stole the alligator was the one who brought back the car. Heinrich wouldn't cry about the loss of his pet if he was the one who took it, would he?"
"It's too deep for one to understand," sighed Hugh with a shake of his head. "At any rate one thing is sure and that is that some plots are being hatched around here and—"
Before he could finish there was a loud crash behind them, the only door leading out of the room was slammed shut, and a key turned in the lock.