"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 comes
Frank 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," said
Bob. "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, while
Bob 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.