"Well, Hugh, what do you think about that?" demanded Bob.
Hugh looked blankly at the rude drawing on the back of the envelope. "I don't know," he said slowly. "Why should they send Mr. Wernberg one of these?"
"Unless it's a message from one member of the gang to another."
"But Mr. Wernberg is in the hospital."
"The others may not know that."
"That's true," Hugh agreed. "This handwriting is the same as that on the messages that came to your father and to Heinrich too."
"I know it, and the same as in the list we found in the old house."
"What do you suppose the alligator stands for?"
"I've no idea. Why did they steal Percy?"
"Anyway we'd better ring the bell and deliver our message. We can't stand out here on the porch all day, you know."
Bob pushed the electric bell, and almost instantly the front door was opened by Frank Wernberg. It would seem as if he had been behind the door waiting all the time. His close-cropped light hair bristled fiercely, and his nose was still slightly swollen; his chin also was still raw where Bob had planted his fist the day before. Bob thought how much longer ago than that it seemed; so many things had happened in the last two days.
"What are you doing here?" demanded Frank brusquely.
Bob and Hugh had been so surprised by the sudden opening of the door that for a moment neither one of them replied.
"What do you want?" exclaimed Frank.
"We've got a letter for your mother," said Bob.
Frank glared at them under lowering brows. "Who from?" he asked.
"That's for her to find out," said Bob. "It's addressed to her you see."
Frank snatched the letter from Bob's outstretched hand, and made as if he was about to go in and shut the door.
"Wait a minute," exclaimed Hugh. "Here's another."
"What kind of a joke are you trying to play on me?" cried Frank angrily.
"None at all," said Hugh. "This one is for your father."
Frank grew red in the face, "If this is a joke I swear you'll be sorry for it," he exclaimed hotly.
"It's no joke at all," said Hugh. "We found this letter lying here under the mat. I was just going to hand it to you."
Frank took the letter from Hugh and looked at it suspiciously. Then he turned it over and looked at the back of it. Suddenly he turned pale.
Bob and Hugh, watching him closely, noticed this fact, and Bob, suddenly plucking up courage, determined to speak of it.
"What does that alligator mean, Frank?" he asked.
The color rushed back into Frank's face. He looked as though he were going to run. He swallowed hard two or three times, choked, and then swallowed again. "I don't know," he blurted out finally, and stepping inside slammed the door shut in the faces of the two boys.
Hugh looked at Bob and smiled. "Frank was certainly glad to see us, wasn't he?" he said sarcastically.
"I should say so," Bob agreed. "Let's go home."
They went down the steps and walked slowly in the direction of theCook home.
"Frank's a queer fellow," said Hugh finally.
"He certainly is," Bob agreed.
"Do you think he knows what has happened to his father?"
"I doubt it. I don't believe he would have been so surly if he had known."
"What do you think about the alligator?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Bob. "It must mean something though, andFrank must know what it is. Did you see how pale he got when he saw it!"
"Maybe it's the sign of some secret society like the Black Hand, or theKu Klux Klan, or something like that."
"Still I can't understand why they should send a warning to Mr. Wernberg if he is a member of the gang."
"It may not have been a warning," said Hugh. "Perhaps it was just a message of some kind or another."
"Then why should Frank have been so scared when he saw it?"
"Don't ask me. I'm getting more mixed up every minute."
They turned into the Cooks' yard and slowly approached the house. A man and woman were just disappearing around the corner.
"Who are they?" Hugh inquired.
"Lena, the cook, and one of her beaux," said Bob.
"I thought Heinrich was in love with her."
"He is," laughed Bob, "but he has a rival, and that's the man."
"What's his name?"
"Karl Hoffmann."
"Another German," said Hugh soberly.
"Say, Hugh," laughed Bob, "you certainly are suspicious. You suspect good old Lena, and now you suspect the man with her because he has a German name. Why, that man Hoffmann has worked for father for years, and father thinks the world of him."
"That doesn't mean he may not be mistaken," Hugh insisted.
"Why, father has even selected him as one of the guards for the factory," said Bob. "I guess that shows how much confidence he has in him."
"But suppose Lena is disloyal," exclaimed Hugh. "If Karl Hoffmann is in love with her there's no telling what she might get him to do."
"But Lena is not disloyal," said Bob peevishly. He was becoming tired ofHugh's constant slurs against the people whom his father employed.
"Well, I'd watch them all," said Hugh.
Bob offered no further comment. He could not convince Hugh that his suspicions were unfounded so he decided there could be no use in arguing with him. They entered the house and found Mr. Cook seated in the library alone.
"Did you deliver my note?" he asked.
"We did," replied Bob.
"Who came to the door?"
"Frank," and Bob related their experiences to his father. Mr. Cook was much interested and puzzled by the manner in which Frank had acted when he saw the drawing of the alligator on the back of the envelope.
"We thought perhaps it might be the sign of some secret society," said Hugh.
"Possibly so," agreed Mr. Cook. "Let's see; the same sign was on the paper you found in the old house, Heinrich got a note with the picture on it, and now this letter you picked up on the Wernbergs' porch had it too."
"And the handwriting was the same as on that postal card you got this morning," said Bob.
"I didn't see any picture on that though."
"No," agreed Bob. "Neither did I."
"I threw the card away," said Mr. Cook. "I was afraid your mother might find it and worry."
"Perhaps there won't be any more trouble, now that Mr. Wernberg is out of the way," suggested Bob. "If he was the leader of the gang, his burns will keep him in the hospital and out of mischief for some time to come."
"You didn't hear what happened this afternoon then?" asked his father.
"No, what?" demanded Bob and Hugh in one breath.
"You remember the railroad bridge, don't you?"
"I guess we'll never forget that, will we, Hugh?" exclaimed Bob. "You don't mean that they tried to blow it up again?"
"Well, it looks so," said Mr. Cook. "One of the guards on the bridge this afternoon saw a man coming down the river in a rowboat. He called to him to halt, but the man kept right on. The guard challenged him three times, but as the man gave no answer he fired at him."
"Did he kill him?" demanded Bob excitedly.
"No," said Mr. Cook, "he didn't try to kill him. He just wanted to scare him, and when he fired the man jumped out of the boat into the water. The guard hurried down to the bank of the river, but the man had scrambled ashore and run off; you know it's quite a long distance from where the railroad tracks cross the bridge down to the water. The guard got a long pole and waded out into the river after the boat. He caught it finally and when he had hauled it ashore he found it was loaded with dynamite. Of course no one knows, but they think he planned to blow up the bridge."
"Whew!" exclaimed Hugh. "The man got away, you say?"
"Yes, unfortunately."
"Couldn't the guard see what he looked like?"
"Yes, he did see that, and here is the interesting part."
"What do you mean?"
"Why," said Mr. Cook, "the man was rather slight, weighing perhaps a hundred and fifty pounds and he had a close-cropped black mustache."
"The fake detective!" exclaimed Bob. "Was that who it was?"
"The description fits him, doesn't it?"
"Yes," agreed Hugh, "but he was out at the old house this afternoon. How could he be on the river at the same time?"
"He was out at the old house early this afternoon," said Mr. Cook. "This episode at the bridge happened only about an hour ago."
"He must have hurried right down there," exclaimed Bob. "When he realized that the police were on his trail he probably decided he had no time to lose, and that's why he dared try such a thing in broad daylight."
"Where did you hear about it, Mr. Cook?" inquired Hugh.
"Sergeant Riley just told me over the telephone; I had called him up to inquire how Mr. Wernberg was getting along."
"How is he?" asked Bob.
"Pretty bad yet; once in a while he recovers consciousness, but only for a few minutes. Besides he suffers so from his burns he can't do any talking."
"And meanwhile his gang keeps on working," said Hugh.
"Is that fake detective part of his gang?" said Bob. "He's the one who blew him up."
"I don't know," exclaimed Hugh in despair. "We just go 'round and 'round in circles and don't seem to get anywhere at all."
"But the fact remains, doesn't it, boys," inquired Mr. Cook, "that whether we know who the gang is, and what the relations are between the two gangs—if there are two—that somebody is hard at work plotting against this country? Also they are becoming bolder for they know that their time is short; sooner or later they are bound to be caught."
"You're afraid for your factory to-night, aren't you, father?" asked Bob.
"I am, indeed," said Mr. Cook.
Bob was on the point of asking if he and Hugh might not help guard it when the telephone rang and his father was called away to answer it.
"Let's go down and talk to Heinrich," exclaimed Bob when his father left the room.
"Aren't you going to ask your father if we can stand guard to-night?"
"Wait till after dinner. I'll ask him then."
"Do you think he'll let us?"
"I guess so. It depends on how badly he needs us."
They went out, and just at the corner of the porch met Karl Hoffmann. He had said good-by to Lena and was on his way home. Bob knew him well, as he did most of his father's employees, for much of his spare time was spent down at the factory. Furthermore, on account of Lena, Hoffmann was a frequent visitor in the Cook home.
He was a big, fine looking fellow of about forty. He had black hair and a piercing black eye, a typical Prussian, for it was from that province in Germany that his parents had migrated some twenty-five years previously. He was a powerful man, standing nearly six feet in height, and not yet showing any tendency towards stoutness, so common among Germans.
"Hello, Karl," cried Bob cheerily.
Hoffmann stopped short. His face had been drawn into a scowl as he strode along, and he had been deeply engrossed in his own thoughts. Bob had often seen him that way after talking with Lena, however. She was something of a flirt and received lightly her admirers' advances. Many a time both Heinrich and Karl had been driven almost to desperation by the manner in which she treated them. Neither did they like each other, because they were rivals.
"Hello there, Bob," he exclaimed, his face brightening. Bob had always been a marked favorite of his, and many a thing he had showed him about the machinery at the factory.
"You look mad," said Bob.
"I was sort of mad," said Karl. "I was worried."
"Anything I can do for you?" Bob inquired, nudging Hugh with his elbow.He loved to tease both Karl and Heinrich about their love affair.
"No, thanks," replied Karl seriously. "It will be all right I hope."
"I hear you're making ammunition down at the factory," said Bob.
"Yes."
"Keeps you pretty busy, doesn't it?"
"It certainly does. We're going to work both a night and day shift next week."
"You want to watch out for some of these bomb plotters," said Bob. "There are a lot of them around here, I understand."
"That so?" exclaimed Karl. "I hadn't heard of any."
"Well, they're here all right."
"We have the plant guarded, you know."
"I know it. It's a good thing too."
"I think it's unnecessary," said Karl. "I told your father so, too."
"You're more of an optimist than he is, I guess," laughed Bob. "He's heard a lot of things that have made him sort of nervous."
"That so?" demanded Karl. "I wonder what they were?"
"I don't know," Bob lied. He thought that if his father wanted to tell his employees any details he would probably do so himself.
Just then Hugh plucked his sleeve. "Look, Bob," he exclaimed. "Here comesFrank in to see you."
Bob swung around just in time to see Frank Wernberg on a bicycle turning into the driveway. He rode a few yards and then suddenly turned around and rode out again. Coming to the street once more he dismounted from his bicycle, and gazed back at the Cooks' house as if he was debating whether he should go in or not. Finally, however, he seemed to decide against that course and jumping on his wheel rode off down the street.
"He lost his nerve," exclaimed Hugh. "You ought to have called to him."
"A fine chance of that," snorted Bob. "If he wants to he can come in here and see me, but I won't run after him."
"Who was that boy?" asked Karl curiously.
"Frank Wernberg," said Bob.
"Wernberg?" exclaimed Karl. "Does his father live down on the corner here?"
"Yes."
"I don't like that man," said Karl soberly. "I hope he's not a friend of yours."
"He is not," exclaimed Bob warmly. "What do you know about him, Karl?"
"Nothing much; I just don't trust him."
"No one seems to like him," laughed Bob. "I guess he won't bother us for some time to come though now."
"Why not?" demanded Karl quickly.
"He's sick."
"What's the matter with him?"
"I don't know," said Bob evasively. He suddenly remembered that probably he had no right to talk about what they had done that day. "All I know is that he's in the hospital."
"Serves him right," exclaimed Karl. "That's a good place for him and for all of his same kind."
If Hugh had had any lingering doubts as to whether or not Karl was loyal they were now dissipated. If Mr. Wernberg was implicated in German plots against the United States, certainly no man who sympathized with him would hate him as Karl Hoffmann plainly did.
"We may come down and help you guard the factory to-night, Karl," saidBob. "You'll be there, won't you?"
"Yes, I'll be there," said Karl. "I wish you wouldn't come though."
"Why not!"
"Suppose something should happen and you got hurt?"
"I thought you said there was no danger."
"I don't think there is, but I know your father doesn't agree with me, and if something should happen to you, just think how badly he'd feel."
"We want to help though," insisted Bob.
"Let the men who are paid for it do the guarding."
"But it's my father's plant," said Bob. "You don't think I want anything to happen to it if I can help it, do you?"
"If he wants you to come, all right," said Karl. "Still you take my advice and stay home."
He said good-by to the boys and went off toward his house. He had to be at the factory early and wanted his supper before he went on duty.
"Well, Hugh?" demanded Bob after Karl had gone. "What do you think of him?"
"Oh, he's all right," said Hugh.
"Do you think he would be disloyal?"
"No, I guess any man who hates Mr. Wernberg as much as he does can't be pro-German. Still he was funny about not wanting us at the factory to-night."
"I know why that was," exclaimed Bob. "He thinks we're just a couple of kids and would only be in everybody's way."
"I guess so," Hugh agreed. "He seemed like a nice fellow all right."
"He is, but Heinie doesn't think so. Let's go ask him about Karl now, and I'll guarantee you'll see some fun. Heinie gets mad the minute you mention his name."
"He's jealous of him, isn't he?"
"He surely is. Lena likes Karl better than she does him, I think, and I guess Heinie knows it. That's why he doesn't like Karl."
"Still I don't blame Lena," observed Hugh. "Karl is certainly better looking."
They found Heinrich seated on a chair in the garage busily counting over a large pile of bills. When the boys appeared he showed the same embarrassment he had when Bob had surprised him at the same work before.
"The rich man again," laughed Bob, but Heinrich said nothing.
"Any trace of Percy?" Bob inquired.
"No," said Heinrich sorrowfully. "I guess he iss gone."
"We've just been talking to Karl Hoffmann," said Bob. "You don't suppose he could have stolen him, do you?"
Immediately Heinrich's manner changed. He rose to his feet angrily, whileBob nudged Hugh. Heinrich became pale with rage.
"That scoundrel!" he stammered. "I would not be surprised if he would steal poor Percy. He iss mean and low enough to do anything."
"Why, Heinie," said Bob mildly. "I always thought Karl was a fine fellow."
"He iss a low down snake!" cried Heinrich. "I would not trust that fellow mit two cents."
"Lena likes him," said Bob.
Heinrich became madder than before at this remark. He stuttered with rage, and advancing toward Bob shook his clenched fist in his face. "Sure she like him," he cried. "Why not? He gives her presents all the time and it iss for that that she like him. She knows what a low down cur he iss, for I have told her so. Only because he has money and can give her presents does she like him. But I will show her!"
"What are you going to do?" demanded Bob, somewhat alarmed by the violence of Heinrich's manner.
"I buy her presents now," exclaimed Heinrich. "You see that?" he demanded, pulling the roll of bills out of his pocket. "You see that?" he repeated. "Well, I got some money now, and I show her who can buy nice presents. She like me better than Hoffmann when I get more money than he." Heinrich looked at the bills held in his fist, and then jammed them back fiercely into his pocket.
"Where'd you get all the money?" asked Bob. "You didn't draw it out of the savings bank, did you?"
"No," exclaimed Heinrich. "I earn it."
"Working for father?"
"No, for Mr. Wernberg."
"What!" exclaimed Bob, completely taken by surprise. He and Hugh looked at each other in astonishment. This was a new turn of events.
"Yes," said Heinrich. "I do some work for Mr. Wernberg; he iss a fine man too."
"What was the work?" inquired Bob. He remembered that Hugh had advised him to watch their chauffeur. He never imagined, however, that even if Heinrich was guilty he would be so bold as to confess brazenly that he was employed by a man to plot against the United States. Still, he had always suspected that poor Heinrich was not quite right in his head.
"I cannot say," said Heinrich. "The work iss secret."
"Why, Heinie," exclaimed Bob. "I never thought you would do a thing like that."
"Why not?" demanded Heinrich. "I do my work here, don't I? Why should I not make a little extra money if I can?"
"But Mr. Wernberg is a bad man."
"He iss not," Heinrich protested stoutly. "He iss one man who knows right from wrong."
Bob shook his head sorrowfully. It hurt him to discover that their chauffeur, a man he had grown up with and liked, was working hand in glove with Mr. Wernberg. He never would have believed it possible had he not heard it with his own ears from Heinrich himself. It was a great shock to him and he knew how badly his father and mother would feel. Of course he must tell his father.
"Come on, Hugh, let's go," exclaimed Bob. Heinrich had turned away from them and walked off angrily. The combination of Lena and Karl and Mr. Wernberg, had been too much for him to stand apparently. He was mad clear through.
"Well," said Bob, when they were outside, "I never would have believed that."
"I told you to watch them all," Hugh reminded him.
"I know you did, and I guess you were right. Why poor old Heinie should be such a fool is more than I can understand."
"Are you going to tell your father?"
"I suppose I must."
"Will he tell the police?"
"I don't know. I should think perhaps he'd have to, though."
"It's too bad," murmured Hugh. He knew how fond his friend was ofHeinrich.
"At any rate Karl is all right I guess," said Bob.
"I'll agree with you there," said Hugh. "How about Lena?"
"Don't ask me. I feel as if I couldn't think."
Mr. Cook met them on the front porch and was at once impressed by the expression on the faces of the two boys.
"What's wrong?" he demanded.
"We've just had an awful shock," said Hugh.
"What is it? Tell me, Bob," his father urged.
"Heinrich is one of Mr. Wernberg's gang."
"Say that again," exclaimed Mr. Cook incredulously.
"Heinrich is working with Mr. Wernberg. You ought to see the pile of money he has been paid already."
"Why, Bob," exclaimed Mr. Cook amazedly. "I think you must be mistaken."
"He just told us himself," said Bob. "He said Mr. Wernberg was a fine man and one of the few who knew right from wrong."
"How did he happen to tell you all this?"
Bob related the circumstances to his father. When he had finished Mr.Cook remained silent for several minutes.
"I am so sorry," he said finally. "I don't see why Heinrich told you."
"He was mad," said Bob, "and jealous."
"A dangerous man to hire for that kind of work I should think," exclaimed Mr. Cook. "If he would say as much as he did to you this afternoon I don't see what there is to prevent him from telling all he knows."
"You mean he might give the whole thing away?"
"Exactly."
"Still," said Bob, "Heinie can be awfully stubborn sometimes."
"I know it. We'd have to be clever to get a full confession from himI imagine."
"I don't see what use he could be to Mr. Wernberg," said Hugh.
"It's a favorite method of these German plotters, Hugh," said Mr. Cook. "Very often they get some simple-minded, ignorant fellow like Heinrich and make a tool of him. Heinrich hasn't got brains enough to think of anything himself."
"Are you going to turn him over to the police?" inquired Bob.
"I was just thinking of that," said Mr. Cook. "I certainly would hate to do it."
"But he may do some damage."
"I know it and I think I know what I'll do. To-night I expect to be at the factory practically all night; I'll keep Heinrich with me on one pretext or another. He'll be right with me all the time so that he won't be able to do any harm and besides I can watch his actions. I am still hoping that he may prove to be loyal."
"I'm afraid he won't," said Bob.
"I'm afraid not too," agreed his father. "Still I won't let him out of my sight and when morning comes we can decide what ought to be done about Him."
"If it isn't too late."
"Let's hope not," exclaimed Mr. Cook earnestly.
"Hugh and I would like to help guard the factory to-night," said Bob.
"I think we have plenty of guards," said Mr. Cook. "You'd better stay home and go to bed; you've had a busy time of it the last two days."
"I know it, but we want to help," explained Bob. "Somehow I have a feeling that something is going to happen down there to-night."
"Suppose it does, and you get hurt. What would your mother say?"
"That's what Karl Hoffmann said," exclaimed Hugh.
"Karl is usually right too," said Mr. Cook. "He takes so much responsibility about my personal affairs that really I don't know what I'd do without him."
"He was afraid we'd get hurt," sniffed Bob.
"Karl likes you," said his father. "He doesn't want anything to happen to you."
"We can take care of ourselves."
"I know that," his father assented. "Do you want to go very much?"
"We certainly do," cried Bob and Hugh in one breath.
"Well," said Mr. Cook, "I'm proud of you for wanting to help, and under the circumstances I don't see how I can refuse."
"That's great!" cried Bob enthusiastically.
"It won't all be fun by a good deal," his father warned him.
"We know that, but we're ready to do anything that comes along."
The two boys were much excited at the prospect of the guard duty. It seemed to them that at last they had been recognized as capable of aiding in the defense of their country. Perhaps if they had known what awaited them they would not have been quite so enthusiastic.
Hugh was going home for dinner, and was to return shortly afterward to accompany Bob and his father to the factory. He left the house and Bob started upstairs to prepare himself for the evening meal. On the landing of the stairs he heard some one talking over the telephone and stopped to listen. Of late he had become suspicious of every one and had fallen into the habit of noticing every little thing that happened.
It was the cook's voice and he was doubly interested at once.
"Yes," he heard her say, "this is Lena."
Bob flattened himself against the wall and listened intently.
"What's that?" Lena demanded over the 'phone. "In the hospital, you say!"
There was a pause while the other person talked to her.
"I will try to be there," said Lena. "I also have a message for you, but I don't know whether I should say it now or not; those blamed detectives are on to us."
There ensued another pause while Bob became more and more excited. What was this plot anyway that turned old and trusted servants against their masters? Was no one to be relied upon? Who could be trusted?
"Yes, I will tell Heinrich," said Lena speaking again. "Good-by."
She hung up the receiver and Bob continued up the stairs, whistling and trying to act as if he had heard nothing. He met Lena in the hall and she eyed him narrowly.
"Hello, Lena," he exclaimed cheerfully. "Fine day, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mr. Bob," she said, and passed on toward the back stairs.
No sooner was she gone than Bob turned and sped down stairs again to the library. He burst into the room breathlessly, causing his father, who was reading his evening paper to glance up in surprise.
"Father," exclaimed Bob in a tense whisper, "Lena's in it too."
"What's that?" demanded his father. "Sit down, Bob."
Bob grasped a chair and sat down facing his father. "Lena's in it too," he repeated.
"In what?"
"In the plot with Mr. Wernberg."
Mr. Cook laid down his paper. "Tell me what you know," he said soberly.
Bob repeated the part of Lena's telephone conversation that he had heard. "You see," he exclaimed, "she spoke about the hospital and that must have meant Mr. Wernberg; then she said the detectives were on to them; finally she said she'd tell Heinrich and also try to be there to-night."
"You don't know what she is to tell Heinrich and where she is to be to-night?"
"No, sir," said Bob. "That's all I heard."
"Well," exclaimed Mr. Cook after a moment's pause. "This is a nice state of affairs."
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Bob. "Are you still going to wait until to-morrow before you report Heinie to the police?"
Mr. Cook passed his hand across his brow as if to wipe away the doubts that assailed him. "Heinrich and Lena both," he muttered. "What a pity."
"I tell you what I'll do," he exclaimed finally. "I'll take Heinrich along with me to-night just as I planned, and I'll tell your mother under no conditions to let Lena go out this evening. In the morning we may know better what to do."
"I have a better scheme than that," said Bob eagerly.
"Tell me what it is."
"Take Heinrich along with you and watch him all the time; that part is all right. But let Lena go out if she wants to."
"What's the point of that?" demanded his father. "For all we know Lena may he able to do more harm than Heinrich; certainly she's smarter."
"Let her go out," said Bob, "and I'll go with her."
"I don't see what you mean."
"I'll follow her."
"You'd have to be disguised."
"I know it; I'll attend to that though."
"It might lead you to some very dangerous spot," said Mr. Cook. "I hate to have you do it."
"Look here, father," exclaimed Bob earnestly. "We're at war with Germany, aren't we? Well, just think of all those millions of men over in Europe on the battlefields; all the English and French, and Italians, and Belgians, and Russians, and all the others. If the United States is in the war we ought to be willing to do our part. Our allies in Europe are fighting for us as much as for themselves, and it seems to me that to disguise myself and follow the cook is a small thing for me to contribute to the common cause."
"I guess you're right, Bob," said his father.
"Why look here," continued Bob. "Just think of the way those men over there are every one of them risking their lives a hundred times a day. We just can't sit still and let them do all our fighting for us. We can give them money and food and I think we ought to expect to give our lives too if it is necessary. I know I don't want to hide behind somebody else and let him fight for me."
"You're all right, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Cook, rising to his feet. He grasped his son affectionately by the arm, and there were tears in his eyes as he did so. "You're all right," he repeated, "and I'm proud of you. You've got the spirit that every true American should have, and which I believe they do have. When Germany finds herself facing a million American troops and sees the Stars and Stripes floating from the opposing trenches she'll know she's beaten. I hope we'll show them that we mean business and the sooner we do, the quicker the war will be over."
"What kind of a disguise can I wear?" asked Bob.
"I guess you won't need a very elaborate one. Isn't there a false-face in the house with whiskers or a mustache on it!"
"I think there is one I used last hallowe'en."
"Get that then," said his father. "We can rip off the whiskers and glue them on your face. Put on an old suit of clothes and a sweater; wear a slouch hat and take along that hickory cane that I have. That ought to fix you up all right."
"I guess it will," exclaimed Bob, much excited at the prospect. "I'll go upstairs and look for the false-face now."
"Don't put it on until after dinner."
"I won't," said Bob as he hurried up to the attic in search of the disguise he was to wear. In a cupboard on the top floor he found the false-face and quickly tore the whiskers and mustache from it. He brought the handful of hair down to his room and hid it in his closet. He selected the oldest suit he owned and placed it on a chair with an old slouch hat he used to wear when he went fishing.
The announcement that dinner was ready put an end to any further preparations for the time being. The meal was a quiet one and there was but little conversation. Mrs. Cook's thoughts were of Harold and she was greatly worried about him; particularly as she did not know where his regiment had been sent. Mr. Cook, although he too was concerned about his elder son, was occupied principally with anxiety as to the plots that seemed to be brewing all about him, and the possible damage to his factory. Bob, needless to say, was highly excited over the prospects of adventure that the evening held forth for him.
Finally dinner was over. Mr. Cook dispatched Bob to the garage with a message to Heinrich to have the car ready in half an hour. As Bob ran across the lawn he met Lena returning from the garage. "Aha," he thought as he greeted her, "you saw Heinrich all right, didn't you?" He was fully convinced now that their cook and chauffeur were agents of Mr. Wernberg, and partners in crime. A moment later he reached the garage.
"Father wants you to bring the car around in half an hour," he announced to Heinrich, who was engaged in putting on a clean collar and necktie.
"What!" exclaimed Heinrich angrily. Bob had never before seen their chauffeur question any order that his father had given. "I can't."
"Those are his orders," said Bob, eyeing Heinrich closely.
"Does he want me to drive him out?"
"He does."
"But I can't," cried Heinrich. "I can't, I tell you; I have an appointment."
"I guess you'll have to break it then," was Bob's retort.
Heinrich wrung his hands in desperation. "What shall I do?" he moaned."What shall I do?"
"Can't you change your appointment?"
"I do not think so," wailed Heinrich. "This iss terrible. Do you think your father would change his mind if I should speak to him?"
"I'm sure he wouldn't," said Bob. "I know he wants the car and he wants you to drive it. I heard him say that positively."
"This iss terrible," repeated Heinrich. "What will they do mitout me?"
"Who?"
"My friends."
"It's too bad," said Bob, more convinced every moment that mischief was afoot that evening. "I don't know what you can do about it though."
"Of course I have to go mit your father," said Heinrich finally, heaving a great sigh. "I wonder if he will want the car for long."
"I think he will."
"Very well," said Heinrich, becoming resigned to his fate, "I will be there but only because I do not wish to lose my job. But I fear something will happen."
"That's just what we want to prevent," thought Bob grimly. "All right then, Heinie," he said aloud. "Father will expect you in half an hour."
He hurried back to the house, warned his father that he should keep Heinrich always within sight, and related his conversation with the chauffeur as an argument for this course. Then he went upstairs, two steps at a time to make ready his disguise. While he was there Hugh arrived and went up to Bob's room.
"What are you doing, Bob?" he demanded.
"Putting on a disguise."
"What for?"
Bob told him.
"I want to go with you," exclaimed Hugh eagerly. "Two would be better than one anyway."
"Where are you going to get a disguise?"
"I'll borrow part of yours. You can certainly spare enough of those whiskers to make me a mustache anyway."
"You ought to have another hat."
"You can lend me an old cap, can't you? I've got on the oldest suit I own."
Bob brought out the glue pot and with Hugh's assistance was soon adorned with a set of black whiskers and a mustache. His hair did not match at all, but as he expected to wear a hat pulled far down over his eyes that fact did not make much difference. He put on the hat, and wearing his old clothes and a sweater looked at himself in the mirror.
"Whew," he exclaimed, "I'm certainly a hard looking character."
"You certainly are," agreed Hugh, "and you look about forty years old."
"All the better," said Bob. "Now let's get you fixed up."
With what was left of Bob's whiskers a small black mustache was twisted into shape and glued to Hugh's upper lip. It was remarkable to see what a great change in his appearance it made.
"When we take these things off, all the skin on our faces will come too," said Hugh inspecting himself in the mirror.
"Don't you care," exclaimed Bob. "What we're interested in at present is to have them stay on to-night. How about a hat for you now?" He rummaged around on the closet shelf and produced an old cap and a derby.
"Put the derby on, Hugh," he urged. "You'll look just like CharlieChaplin."
"That wouldn't do, I'm afraid," laughed Hugh. "I'd have too big a crowd following me."
"Turn up the ends of your mustache and you'll look like the kaiser."
"Not for me!" exclaimed Hugh hastily. "I don't want to look like anything German. I'll wear the cap, I guess. I think that's better than the derby."
At that moment Mr. Cook appeared upon the scene. He stood and looked at the two boys approvingly. "Well," he said, "you certainly look like a couple of tough customers all right. I'm glad you're going along, Hugh; I think two will be better than one."
"Is Lena still here?" asked Bob.
"Still here," said his father. "She's getting ready to leave though and you two had better be prepared."
"Where's Heinrich?"
"He's due in about five minutes."
"You'd better watch him, father," warned Bob.
"Don't worry about that," said Mr. Cook soberly. "I suppose that you two 'things' will come to the factory later. I expect to be there all night."
"We'll try to get there," said Bob. "We'll keep track of Lena as long as we can, and if it's possible we'll report to you at the office."
"Good," exclaimed Mr. Cook. "Don't forget to be very careful, and don't get into trouble if you can help it."
"We'll do our best," Bob promised.
As Mr. Cook left the room the two boys heard the automobile come up the driveway and stop in front of the house. Mrs. Cook and Louise were to spend the evening with an aunt of Bob's a short distance down the street, and Mr. Cook was to take them there in the car. Bob and Hugh waited until they should all leave for they did not want to be seen by any one in their disguises.
Presently they heard the car start off and they knew the coast was clear. Silently they slipped down stairs and out the front door. By the side of the house they paused for a consultation.
"These whiskers itch awfully," exclaimed Bob.
"So does this mustache," said Hugh. "I guess we'll have to endure it though."
"Where shall we wait?"
"Won't Lena come out the back door?"
"I guess so. At any rate she'll have to come around and go down the front walk, there's no other way for her to get out of the yard."
"Let's cross the street and wait there then."
They followed that plan and presently were standing side by side in the shadow of a tree on the opposite side of the street. Lena could be expected to appear at any minute and they kept a sharp lookout for her.
"What do you suppose is ahead of us to-night?" asked Hugh in a low tone.
"I wish I knew."
"I hope we aren't going off on a wild goose chase."
"You've been saying right along that we ought to watch Lena," Bob reminded his friend.
"I know that and I think it's a good plan. All I say is that she may fool us in some way if we're not careful."
"How do you suppose Mr. Wernberg's getting along in the hospital?"
"I don't know," said Hugh. "I must say though that I'm more interested in Lena."
"I'd like to see our old friend, the false detective."
"So would I. What do you suppose he is—"
"Ssh," hissed Bob suddenly.
Around the corner of the Cooks' house came a woman. She walked briskly and a moment later had reached the street. She gazed apprehensively up and down while the two boys shrank farther back into the shadow; then she started off in the direction of the city's business district.
"That's Lena," whispered Bob. "Come on."
On the opposite side of the street and perhaps a hundred paces in back of the hurrying woman the two boys followed.
"We'll have to keep closer than this when she gets down town," whispered Hugh.
"I know it," agreed Bob. "She'd get suspicious now though."
Now and again Lena stopped and glanced behind her. Every time she did so the boys stopped too; evidently she was afraid of being followed. They met few people and those who did pass them apparently took them for a couple of tramps, for they paid no particular attention to them.
A little distance down the street Lena turned the corner to her right. The two boys as a consequence had to run in order not to lose sight of her. They were fearful lest she should slip away from them and therefore were greatly relieved when they came to the turn and saw her still in front of them.
A few moments later she turned again, and then presently, turned still a third time.
"She's trying to lose us," whispered Bob.
"Maybe not," said Hugh. "This is Elm Street."
"Where's twelve eighty-two!"
"On the next block."
The white stucco house was on the same side of the street with the boys, and as Lena came opposite it she crossed over. Bob and Hugh stopped short under a large maple tree whose trunk cast a shadow affording ample protection from a nearby arclight. From this vantage point they watched the woman they were trailing.
"She's going in," whispered Bob, clutching Hugh's arm excitedly.
Lena turned in from the side walk and started toward the steps of the white stucco house, number twelve eighty-two. Half-way up she paused irresolutely. She acted as if she was puzzled as to what she should do; finally she turned, descended the steps rapidly and continued on down the street.
"That was queer," whispered Bob.
"It looked as though she lost her nerve."
"Why should she be scared to go in where her gang is!"
"Don't ask me. Come on."
Once again they took up the chase. Lena seemed to walk more swiftly than ever now, and it was not an easy task to keep pace with her and still not be seen. The night was dark with low-hanging clouds, the street lamps affording the only light available. Ahead they could see the reflection from the lights of the main street of the city.
"Do you suppose she dropped a note or anything on that porch back there?" demanded Hugh suddenly.
"I didn't see her do anything like that," said Bob.
"Nor I. At any rate I guess the best thing we can do is to stick close to her."
"Yes, and we'd better keep closer too, now that we are coming to where the stores are. We'll lose track of her if we don't."
"Do you suppose any one will notice that we're disguised?"
"I hope not. There's usually a big crowd on the streets Saturday night though."
"We'll hope for luck," said Hugh earnestly.
They quickened their paces until they were scarcely more than seventy-five feet in back of Lena. There were many people passing them in both directions now, and apparently Lena was not as suspicious as she had been; she glanced behind her no more.
Presently they turned into the main street. The sidewalks were thronged with people and everything was lighted up brilliantly in the glare of arclights and shop windows. Lena was just ahead of the boys and it was not an easy task to follow her in the crowd.
Music sounded down the street. A troop of cavalry was approaching and every one lined the curb to see them pass. Lena stopped and the boys took their places directly behind her. Every trooper was mounted on a coal black horse, and they made a fine showing as they drew near; the crowd began to cheer and many waved small American flags that they were carrying. Women waved their handkerchiefs as the horsemen passed, and much to both Bob's and Hugh's surprise Lena waved her handkerchief and clapped her hands with the others.
"What do you think of that?" whispered Bob.
"Bluff," said Hugh. "She's clever."
The crowd began to break up and presently was moving up and down the street again. Lena started on her way once more, and almost at her heels followed Bob and Hugh. They were beginning to wonder whether they were following a false clue. It might be that Lena had dropped a message on the porch of the house on Elm Street, and if so her work was probably done and there could be no object in following her farther.
Suddenly Hugh seized Bob by the arm. "Look at this man coming," he hissed.
Not thirty feet distant and walking directly toward them was the false detective. There could be no mistaking him. Bob and Hugh, forgetting for the moment that they were disguised were fearful lest he should recognize them as well. A moment later, however, an interesting event happened right before their eyes, and they forgot all else.
As the "detective," the man with whom they had fought that morning, the man who had blown up the deserted house, and whom they suspected of having tried to blow up the railroad bridge in the afternoon, passed Lena he held a slip of paper in his left hand. As she went by she took it with her left hand, though as far as the boys could see the two conspirators had not even looked at each other.
Lena continued on down the street as if nothing had happened, while the detective also kept on as though unconscious of having seen Lena at all. He passed the two boys without even a glance.
Bob and Hugh stopped short.
"What do you think of that?" demanded Hugh. "What'll we do?"
"Follow them," said Bob quickly. "You follow him and I'll trail Lena."
Without another word the two boys separated.
Bob had almost lost sight of Lena through this temporary delay and he hurried ahead through the crowd, bumping into several people, and drawing black looks from many for his rudeness. He was in a hurry, however. He had to catch up with Lena, and there was no time to be polite.
Lena too was hurrying. She threaded her way in and out among the throngs of people, and Bob was hard put to it to keep pace with her. As he rushed along he became more and more puzzled and confused as to what was taking place. There was no doubt in his mind that Lena and Heinrich were working in the interests of Mr. Wernberg and therefore were to be watched closely. Apparently Lena was in league with the fake detective too, else why should he stealthily slip a communication into her hand?
But the detective had blown up the house when Mr. Wernberg was within it and had nearly caused his death. If they were all working together how was that fact to be reconciled with what had befallen him? Probably Mr. Wernberg had been injured accidentally as Sergeant Riley had explained. At all events Lena was hurrying along through the crowd and Bob's task was to follow her. His father was watching Heinrich and it would never do for Bob to let his quarry escape him.
Lena followed the main street for several squares. The crowd was still thick, but Bob kept his eyes on her. Presently she turned down a side street, where it was easier to follow her and Bob heaved a sigh of relief. He was sure he could keep track of her now, and his mind was easier. They passed fewer people all the time, and now the only illuminations were the street lamps and an occasional arclight.
Bob dropped further behind. His one wish was to avert suspicion on Lena's part, and the sight of a tough-looking man with heavy black whiskers, old clothes, and a dilapidated slouch hat dogging her footsteps might well have made her uneasy.
Every hundred feet or so Lena cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Bob did not walk on the stone pavement, but skulked along in the shadow of the hedges and fences except when a passerby came along. Consequently whenever Lena looked behind her he stood still. It was exciting work.
A half-mile or so down the street Lena stopped. She stood under one of the street lamps, and after a sharp glance in all directions, stealthily drew a piece of paper out of the bag she carried. She was plainly nervous, and Bob watched her intently. She was about to read the note that the fake detective had handed to her.
It took Bob only a second to make up his mind. The occasion called for quick action and he acted quickly. Running swiftly and silently on the moist earth, he stole up behind Lena. She was standing still, deeply engrossed in what she read on the paper she held in her hand. Consequently she was unaware of Bob bearing down upon her.
When he was about ten feet behind her, Bob suddenly dashed forward, even more swiftly than before, and before the startled cook knew what was happening he had snatched the paper from her hand and was speeding away with it. He ran only for a few steps, however. An exposed root from one of the big maple trees that lined the sidewalk caught his foot; he tripped, was thrown violently forward, and fell sprawling on his face. He did not relax his hold on the paper, however. It was crumpled, but he held it tightly clenched in his hand.
The fall jarred him considerably. The knee of his trousers was torn and his hand scraped. His hat fell off, and as he slid along the ground on his face, half of his false whiskers were ripped off. He picked himself up as quickly as he could, however, and turned around to see what Lena was doing.
She was nowhere to be seen.