Part 9 (1/2)

”And perhaps people wouldn't even know they were Germans, if they spoke good English, and didn't have an accent.”

That suggestion of d.i.c.k's bore fruit. For the third station they found was evidently hidden away in a private park. It was in the outskirts of a little village, and Harry and d.i.c.k had no trouble at all in finding out all the villagers knew of the place.

”'Twas taken a year ago by a rich American gentleman, with a sight of motor cars and foreign-looking servants,” they were told. ”Very high and mighty he is, too--does all his buying at the stores in Lunnon, and don't give local trade any of his patronage.”

The two scouts exchanged glances. Their suspicions were confirmed in a way.

But it was necessary to be sure; to be suspicious was not enough for them.

”We'll have to get inside,” he said under his breath to d.i.c.k. But the villager heard, and laughed.

”Easy enough, if you're friends of his,” he said. ”If not--look out, master! He's got signs up warning off trespa.s.sers, and traps and spring guns all over the place. Wants to be very private, and all that, he does.”

”Thanks,” said Harry. ”Perhaps we'd better not pay him a visit, after all.”

The village was a sleepy little place, one of the few spots Harry had seen to which the war fever had not penetrated. It was not on the line of the railway, and there was not even a telegraph station. By showing Colonel Throckmorton's letter, Harry and d.i.c.k could have obtained the right to search the property that they suspected. But that did not seem wise.

”I don't think the village constables here could help us much, d.i.c.k,” said Harry. ”They'd give everything away, and we probably wouldn't accomplish anything except to put them on their guard. I vote we wait until dark and try to find out what we can by ourselves. It's risky but even if they catch us, I don't think we need to be afraid of their doing anything.”

”I'm with you,” said d.i.c.k. ”We'll do whatever you say.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon scouting around the neighboring country on their motorcycles, studying the estate from the roads that surrounded it. Bray Park, it was called, and it had for centuries belonged to an old family, which, however, had been glad of the high rent it had been able to extract from the rich American who had taken the place.

What they saw was that the grounds seemed to be surrounded, near the wall, by heavy trees, which made it difficult to see much of what was within. But in one place there was a break, so that, looking across velvety green lawns, they could see a small part of an old and weatherbeaten grey house.

It appeared to be on a rise, and to stand several stories above the ground, so that it might well be an ideal place for the establishment of a heliograph station. But Harry's suspicions were beginning to take a new turn.

”I believe this is the biggest find we've made yet, d.i.c.k,” he said. ”I think we'll find that if we discover what is really going on here, we'll be at the end of our task--or very near it. It's just the place for a headquarters.”

”I believe it is, Harry. And if they've been so particular to keep everything about it secret, it certainly seems that there must be something important to hide,” suggested Harry, thinking deeply.

”I think I'll write a letter to Colonel Throckmorton, d.i.c.k. I'll tell him about this place, and that we're trying to get in and find out what we can about it. Then, if anything happens to us, he'll know what we were doing, and he will have heard about this place, even if they catch us. I'll post it before we go in.”

”That's a splendid idea, Harry. I don't see how you think of everything the way you do.”

”I think it's because my father's always talking about how one ought to think of all the things that can go wrong. He says that the way he's got along in business is by never being surprised by having something unfortunate happen, and by always trying to be ready to make it as trifling as it can be.”

So Harry wrote and posted his letter, taking care to word it so that it would be hard for anyone except Colonel Throckmorton to understand it. And, even after having purposely made the wording rather obscure, he put it into code. And, after that, he thought of still another precaution that might be wise.

”We won't need the credentials we've got in there to-night, d.i.c.k,” he said.

”Nor our copies of the code, either. We'll bury them near where we leave our motorcycles. Then when we get out we can easily get them back, and if we should be caught they won't be found on us. Remember, if we are caught, we're just boys out trespa.s.sing. Let them think we're poachers, if they like.”

But even Harry could think of no more precautions after that, and they had a long and tiresome wait until they thought it was dark enough to venture within the walls.

Getting over the wall was not difficult. They had thought they might find broken gla.s.s on top, but there was nothing of the sort. Once inside, however, they speedily discovered why that precaution was not taken--and also that they had had a remarkably narrow escape. For scarcely had they dropped to the ground and taken shelter when they saw a figure, carrying a gun, approaching. It was a man making the rounds of the wall. While they watched he met another man, also armed, and turned to retrace his steps.

”They've got two men, at least--maybe a lot more, doing that,” whispered Harry. ”We've got to find out just how often he pa.s.ses that spot. We want to know if the intervals are regular, too, so that we can calculate just when he'll be there.”

Three times the man came and went, while they waited, timing him. And Harry found that he pa.s.sed the spot at which they had entered every fifteen minutes. That was not exact for there was a variation of a minute or so, but it seemed pretty certain that he would pa.s.s between thirteen and seventeen minutes after the hour, and so on.