Bob Cook and the German Spy | Page 9

said Heinrich proudly. "He does not grow fast though."
"I wish my bicycle was fixed," sighed Bob. "I wanted to ride down to the armory."
"Harold iss in the army," said Heinrich.
"I know it," said Bob. "I wish I was too."
"You want to fight?" Heinrich asked.
"Of course I do. Don't you? You're an American citizen, aren't you, Heinie?"
"Yes, indeed," said Heinrich quickly. "For twelve years I been one."
"You're all right," exclaimed Bob heartily. "If all Germans were as loyal as you I wouldn't have this black eye right now."
"A German hit you?"
"He ought not to be a German, but he is," said Bob bitterly.
"Who was it?"
"I won't tell you. What's the use?"
"It was Frank Wernberg," said Heinrich.
Bob looked curiously at the chauffeur. "How do you know?" he demanded.
"Was it him?"
"Yes, but how could you find it out so soon?"
"Mebbe I guess," said Heinrich.
"Probably you did," laughed Bob. "What do you know about the Wernbergs anyway, Heinie?"
"Nothing," said Heinrich quickly and he acted as though he had made a mistake. "Look at Percy," he exclaimed. "He iss going down into the water."
The alligator slipped slowly off the rock where he had been dozing. He slid quietly into the water and remained floating there all its four feet standing straight out.
"He iss cute," said Heinrich proudly.
Bob had never considered an alligator as being cute, but he did think "Percy" was interesting. Little did he dream how much more interested he would be in the small animal before many days had passed.


CHAPTER V
ON THE BRIDGE
Harold came home for dinner that night. He was serving in the ninth infantry as a private until such a time as he should pass his examination and receive his commission.
"Bob has seen active fighting sooner than you have, Harold," laughed Mr. Cook glancing at his younger son's battered eye.
"Yes, and he won the battle too," said Bob warmly.
"All I can say is," remarked Harold, "that Frank Wernberg must be an awful looking sight if he's worse than you."
"He is," said Bob. "You ought to see his nose."
"Don't talk about it," urged Mrs. Cook. "I hate it."
"All right," laughed her husband. "Tell us what you have to do down at the armory, Harold. You were lucky to get off to-night."
"Oh, I've got to go back," said Harold. "We'll probably be ordered out for guard duty to-night. I may be guarding your plant for all I know."
"I hope we'll need no guards," said Mr. Cook earnestly. "In spite of all I said last night I can't believe that many people will be disloyal."
"Some German got on our wire by mistake again to-day," said Louise. "He wanted Mr. Wernberg just as that man did last night."
Mr. Cook shook his head slowly. "I don't like that man Wernberg," he said.
"Oh, the secret service must be watching him," said Bob. "They seem to be ready for anything," and he related what had taken place in the trolley that morning when he was on his way to school.
The telephone rang and Bob answered it to find Hugh Reith on the wire. He wanted Bob to go down to the armory that night and see the soldiers. Bob readily agreed.
A short time after supper Hugh arrived at the Cooks', and the two boys accompanied by Harold set out. They felt very proud to be walking with a real live soldier, a man in the olive drab uniform of the American Army. Harold carried a rifle, with an ugly looking bayonet affixed to the barrel, the whole thing being nearly as tall as he was.
The roll call had been started at the armory and Harold took his place in line just in time to answer to his name. Bob and Hugh looked on from the gallery and were greatly impressed by the business-like appearance of the men, and the curt, crisp orders of the officers. The soldiers were divided into squads and presently were marched out of the building to unknown destinations.
"I guess it's all over,'' remarked Hugh.
"Looks so," Bob agreed. "It's early yet though and I don't want to go home."
"Nor I. What do you say to a walk down by the river? My canoe is in Brown's boathouse and I'd like to take a look at it. It has been laid up all winter and I'll want to get it out pretty soon."
"All right," said Bob. "How shall we go?"
"We can take a short cut down over the railroad bridge."
"Come ahead."
They set out through the streets of High Ridge. Few people were stirring and nowhere were any signs of war. The soldiers had disappeared and the quiet town seemed far removed from the strife of conflict. It seemed incredible that even at that moment some one might be plotting to overthrow the law and order of the little city. It was a far cry to the