"What are you doing here?"
"Trying to round up some bally German spies," explained Brook-White.
"I've beaten you to it," cried Fleck, with a note of triumph in his
tone. "I've got them all here in shackles."
"Good," said Brook-White delightedly. "I was fearful I'd be too late.
There was delay in getting a message to me. As soon as I had it, I tried
to reach you and couldn't. I dared not wait but dashed up here in my
car. I knew there were some American troopers camped near here, and I
persuaded the commander to detail some of his men to help me. Did you
really capture the Hoff chap, old Otto?"
"He's better than captured," said Fleck. "He's lying dead back there in
the house."
"Good," cried Brook-White. "He was infernally dangerous according to my
advices--but Captain Seymour--where is he? Wasn't he working with you?"
"Captain Seymour?" cried Fleck in astonishment. "I never heard of him.
Who's Captain Seymour?"
"He's one of my chaps," explained Brook-White. "Wasn't it he who steered
you up here?"
"I should say not," said Fleck emphatically.
"Good Lord," cried the British colonel excitedly. "You don't suppose
those bloody Boches got him at the last--after all he's been through? I
hope he's safe."
"Don't worry, Colonel Brook-White," came the calm voice of Frederic Hoff
from the rear seat.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230