Hugh had seized the man by his right wrist and as they went down the blackjack was sent spinning. It was man to man, bare hands for weapons. Hugh's assailant was not large, but he was extremely agile. He squirmed and wriggled, kicked and butted, in fact he used every weapon at his command. Hugh probably outweighed his enemy, and in addition was a splendid wrestler, but he was young and his antagonist's strength was more developed. Each fighter struggled desperately to get an arm free. Once Hugh succeeded, but it was his left arm, and when he seized his opponent's throat his hold was soon shaken loose. They fought fiercely, both breathing hard, their faces were red and blotched, and their eyes were staring. Over and over they rolled, the stones and twigs on the ground tearing and lacerating their hands and faces. Hugh got hold of his opponent's right arm. He bent it back with every bit of strength he possessed, until the man cried out in pain. Hugh knew, however, that he would receive no mercy if he was overcome and he pressed home his advantage. Suddenly, with a convulsive twist of his body, the man shook loose Hugh's hold, and dealt him a heavy blow in the chest. Hugh felt his wind badly shaken and he seized his opponent around the waist with both arms, squeezing with all the strength in his body. His one idea was to keep as close to his enemy as he could, so that the man would have no opportunity to strike him again. Gradually Hugh felt his strength slipping. He knew he could not hold out much longer, and even as he struggled he wondered how soon it would be before the other Germans returned and made an end of him. Then when he least expected it, help came to him. Bob had opened his eyes after a moment. He had seen millions of stars, and as he came to his senses again his head felt sore and battered. He did not recall for a moment just what had befallen him. Suddenly, however, he heard the sounds of a violent struggle being waged near at hand, and sitting up he spied Hugh and his assailant locked in each other's grasp, and still fighting. Bob sprang to his feet and approached them. He remembered everything now. His throbbing head recalled to him the blow he had received and he could feel a large lump on the back of it. He wondered what would have happened to him if he had not worn a hat. A moment later, however, he had dismissed from his mind all thought of himself and was engaged in assisting his friend. He grasped Hugh's assailant by his throat and knelt on his shoulders with both knees. Gradually the man's strength waned; Hugh could feel it slipping. A moment later he lay gasping on the ground too weak to offer any resistance to the two boys. Hugh held his arms, while Bob released his hold on the man's throat and sat on his legs. The prisoner, his breath rattling in his chest, lay with eyes half-closed, completely done up. Suddenly Hugh spied something that made him start violently. The man's coat lay wide open and pinned on his vest was a badge. More than that, it was a police badge, one of the badges of the police of High Ridge. "Bob," gasped Hugh in alarm, "this man's a detective." "What!" cried Bob. "You're crazy." "I am not. Look here." He released his hold on his erstwhile opponent and stood up. Bob followed suit. In amazement they looked at the man on the ground at their feet. "That's a High Ridge police badge all right," said Bob. "No doubt of it." "Are you a detective?" Hugh asked their victim. The man looked at them through narrowed eyelids. "Yes," he said weakly, and started to reach towards his hip pocket. "Here, here!" cried Hugh. "None of that! This whole thing is a mistake." "Let me help you up," urged Bob, offering his hand to the beaten man. "I guess we were after the same people you were," exclaimed Bob, taking it for granted that the detective had trailed the Germans to the deserted house as he and Hugh had done. "They had us locked up in there and we had just broken down the door and were coming out. We didn't know you were a detective." "You didn't give us a chance to find out," laughed Hugh, greatly relieved at the unexpected turn of events. He also felt safer to have an officer of the law with them. The detective rubbed his neck, and looked at the two boys narrowly. "Germans in this house?" he said at length. "They had a meeting here last night," said Bob. "How do you know?" "We followed them out here. Look at this too," and he handed over the list of buildings to be destroyed that they had found in the old house. The detective snatched the paper out of his hand and scanned it eagerly. "Where did you get this?" he demanded. "We found it upstairs," said Bob. "Humph," ejaculated the detective and thrust it into his pocket. "Weren't you trailing these Germans too?" inquired Bob. "How do you know they were Germans?" "Who else would want to blow up bridges and ammunition factories?" "Did they intend to do that?" "That's what that list says," exclaimed Hugh, nettled by the questions the man asked as well as by his odd behavior. "Well," said the detective, "you take my advice. This is no place for a couple of boys like you to be hanging around. You might get hurt the first thing you know." He glanced about him nervously as though he expected some one else to arrive upon the scene at any moment. "A man locked us in that room just before you arrived," said Bob. "Then he dashed off in a big gray roadster." "Well, you'd better get out of here yourselves," said the detective shortly. "They may come back at any minute and perhaps you'll need help," protested Bob. "I'll take care of that part of it," exclaimed the detective. "You get out." Convinced that there was nothing else for them to do, Bob and Hugh started off through the woods, leaving the detective in undisputed possession of the premises. They were greatly puzzled by their recent experience. "What do you think of that detective?" demanded Bob, when they had reached a point out of sight of the house. "I think he was an old grouch," exclaimed Hugh. "I don't see why he had to be so disagreeable to us; all we wanted to do was to help him." "Yes, when those Germans come back he's apt to be handled roughly." "He was jealous of us, I believe," said Bob. "Why so?" "Well, we had gone ahead on our own account, and from the way he acted I guess we knew more about what was going on than he did." "Perhaps that's it," said Hugh. "Maybe he was afraid we might take some glory away from him." "How silly!" exclaimed Bob. "What do we want with glory?" "We'd better tell your father what happened this morning." "Of course. He'll think I'm a pretty poor fighter though; a black eye one day and a big lump on my head the next." "How does your head feel anyway?" inquired Hugh. "Oh, pretty well. It still throbs though." "I should think it might, and you can consider yourself pretty lucky that you didn't get your skull cracked open." "He was a queer looking man, wasn't he?" "Yes, and his actions were even queerer." "I guess he was jealous," said Bob. "Oh, well, I don't suppose it makes any difference who corners those Germans, so long as somebody does it." "Personally, I'm sort of glad to get away from that house," said Hugh. "I believe that if we had stayed much longer we never would have left." "How about the detective?" "If he wants to stay that's his lookout, not ours." "That's right, and I suppose he'll go for help anyway." "Perhaps they'll just watch the house for a day or two," said Hugh. "It may be though that now that those Germans know they are watched they may meet in some other place." "True enough. I wish we could find the place." Presently they came to the spot where they had left their bicycles. They were still there, and a moment later the boys were wheeling them back across the field again. Once more in the road, they mounted and soon were riding towards home. Their minds were busy with plots and Germans and the recent experiences they had undergone. They felt sure that they were on the trail of a desperate gang, and that quick action perhaps was necessary to prevent untold damage, and possible loss of life. They were confused, however. Everywhere they turned they seemed to run into some new angle of the affair, or some other person who might bear watching. Hugh was still of the opinion that Heinrich and Lena should be looked after pretty carefully, though Bob laughed at him. He knew his family felt that their servants could be relied upon absolutely. Bob wondered about his father's plant; was it properly guarded? Perhaps his father might consent to let him go down there and help watch over it at night. Talking but little they spun along the road. Each boy was occupied with his own thoughts, and consequently did not notice an automobile rapidly approaching down the road. "Here comes a car," exclaimed Bob suddenly. They swung over to the right side of the road to let it pass, and a moment later it roared past them in a cloud of dust. "Bob," cried Hugh excitedly. "The gray roadster." "I know it. Did you see who was in it?" "I didn't notice." "Mr. Wernberg." "What!" "It certainly was." "I guess your father was right about him then. He said he was a dangerous man, and I guess he is, if he's mixed up with that gang out there." "Well, Frank wouldn't talk the way he does unless he'd heard it at home." "Probably not. Do you suppose they recognized us?" "Suppose they did?" said Bob, carelessly. "We have a right to the road, haven't we?" "Certainly, but the man who locked us in the room! He must have been in the car and would surely recognize us as the ones who were in the house." "That's true," exclaimed Bob. "Do you think they'll turn around and come after us?" Hugh glanced back over his shoulder. "The car has stopped," he exclaimed. The two boys leaned forward on their pedals, bent low over the handlebars, and rode as hard as they could. They were not far from the town now and they knew that the occupants of the gray roadster would not dare molest them, when once they had gained the populated districts. Not once did they look back until they were safely within the city limits. "I didn't think they'd follow us," puffed Hugh. "Still it's just as well to take no chances." "I wasn't so much afraid of them chasing us," said Bob. "What worries me is that probably they know who we are now, and consequently we won't be safe no matter where we are." "I guess we'll have to report to the police." "If we do I hope they treat us better than that detective did." "I hope so, too," laughed Hugh. "At any rate we'll ask your father." "You are coming to our house for luncheon, you know." "Yes." "We can talk it over with father then." They arrived at the Cook residence without further adventure or mishap. "Well, boys," he said, plainly relieved at seeing them safely back, "what luck?" "Feel my head," said Bob, removing his cap. Mr. Cook did so. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "Where did you get that?" Bob related the story of their experiences that morning. Mr. Cook offered no comment until he had finished. "This looks serious," he said at length. "It's too bad you got such a bump from a detective, a man on your own side." "What do you think of our seeing Mr. Wernberg?" asked Hugh. Mr. Cook's face clouded and he shook his head. "I was afraid of him," he said. "What shall we do about it?" Bob inquired. "I think we'd better report it to the police, and do it soon, too." He looked at his watch. "We've got time before luncheon," he exclaimed. "Was Heinrich in the garage?" "No, sir." "How about the car?" "That's there all right." "Well, come along then," exclaimed Mr. Cook. "We'll get it and go straight down to police headquarters now." "Don't you think our friend the detective will make a report?" asked Hugh. "Possibly. Still, as Bob says, those men are sometimes very jealous and he might not tell the whole story, particularly about what you did." A few moments later all three were on their way to the police station. Bob's old friend, Sergeant Riley, was still behind the desk and gave them a jovial greeting. "Yez haven't got no Germans for me, have yez?" he demanded. "No," said Mr. Cook, "we haven't, but we can tell you where to get some." "Sounds interesting," said the sergeant laying aside his pen and carefully blotting the sheet of paper on which he had been writing. "Tell me about it." "Go ahead, Bob," his father urged. "Tell your story, and first of all let "It would indade," exclaimed the sergeant, after examining the swelling on Bob's head. "Not that I'd ever doubt anything a son of yours told me, Misther Cook." Bob related the events of that day to Sergeant Riley. The police officer listened attentively and interestedly until Bob came to the part about the detective. As he began to tell of that the sergeant started perceptibly. "A detective, yez said?" he demanded. "Yes," said Bob, "he had a badge on." "Can yez describe him?" "Well," said Bob, "he was a man about five feet seven inches tall; he had dark hair and a close-cut black mustache. I should think he would weigh possibly about a hundred and fifty pounds; maybe not quite so much. He had on a soft brown hat and a dark suit of clothes. I can't remember anything more about him." "That's a plenty," exclaimed the sergeant. He had been jotting down the description of the detective as Bob spoke. "He was a grouchy fellow all right," exclaimed Hugh. "He chased us away from there as though he was jealous of us and didn't want us around." "I daresay he didn't want yez," said Riley. "What's his name?" asked Bob. "I don't know," replied the sergeant. "Come on, Riley," laughed Mr. Cook, "you can't tell me that. Why I thought you knew every one in High Ridge to say nothing of your own force. You don't mean to tell me you don't know a detective that wears the same badge you do?" "Yes, sir, I do," said Riley soberly. "And I'll tell yez why. That man these boys met this morning is no detective at all." |