Bob Cook and the German Spy

T >> Tomlinson, Paul Greene >> Bob Cook and the German Spy

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"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.

CHAPTER XIX

A DISCUSSION

"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 of
Heinrich.

"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 him
I 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.

CHAPTER XX

ANOTHER SUSPECT

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 Charlie
Chaplin."

"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.

CHAPTER XXI

ON THE STREET

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.

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