“I’m not so sure about that.” Brand did not smile. “They did find his parachute and his uniform half hidden under leaves.”

“Oh! Fixing to turn into a spy!” Applegate’s face sobered.

“Alice,” the younger of the two children called. “What is a spy?”

“A spy,” said Cherry, “steals secrets.”

“And blows up castles and bridges. A terrible man!” said Alice. “I know all about it. I’ll tell you a story about a spy when it’s time for bed.”

“Ooo.” Peggy gave a delectable shiver. “After that we won’t dare go to sleep!”

“The most astonishing thing,”—Brand leaned forward in his chair—“is that one of the men we captured today is the son of the prisoner who worked on this farm more than twenty years ago.”

“What?” Applegate exclaimed. “It can’t be possible!”

“How do you expect us to believe that?” Cherry demanded with a wave of the hand.

“I’ll leave it to Dave and Jock,” Brand defended.

“That’s right,” Jock agreed. Dave nodded his head.

“See?” Brand’s voice was low. “What’s more, I’m almost sure the fellow who eluded us is his brother. If you don’t believe that, look at this picture.” He passed the paper and the photo around.

“Hans Schlitz,” Applegate said, musingly, “That’s the name, right enough. I’ve often heard my mother speak of him. Gloomy, brooding sort of fellow, he was. Probably went back to Europe after the war to tell his sons vile tales of the way he was treated. Poisoned their minds with hate.”

“Oh—ah!” Cherry shuddered. “Gives me the creeps to think of that son of his prowling about here at night.”

“Oh come!” Applegate sprang up. “It’s not as bad as all that. Come on, Cherry.” He put out his hands. “How about a song. I’ll do the honors at the old grand. Happy days.”

“I’d love it!” said Cherry, allowing herself to be led away to the corner where a huge grand piano loomed out of the shadows.

Taking up a candle, Alice carried it to that corner, set it on the piano, then tiptoed back.

With this pale light playing 

 Prev. P 19/99 next