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BOB COOK AND THE GERMAN SPY
BY PAUL G. TOMLINSON
Author of "To the Land of the Caribou," "The Trail of Black Hawk," etc.
PREFACE
Every one knows that Germany is famous for her spy system. Scarcely aland on earth but is, or was, honeycombed with the secret agents of theGerman Government. Ever since this country began to send war munitions tothe Allies an organized band of men has plotted and schemed against thepeace and welfare of the United States. When America itself declared wartheir efforts naturally were redoubled. Our Secret Service has beenwonderfully efficient, but it has not been humanly possible to apprehendevery spy and plotter at once. It is a big task to unravel all thesecrets of this great German organization.
We are at war with Germany now and it is the duty of every American tohelp his government in every way he can. This book is the story of howtwo boys, too young to enlist, did "their bit" right in their own hometown. It is not an exaggerated tale, but presents in story form what hasactually happened all around us. Due allowance is made for the fact thatthe most of our citizens of German birth and descent are good Americans.No one whose motto is, "America First," need fear offense from anythingcontained in the story of "Bob Cook and The German Spy." Two boys lovedtheir country and did their duty by it. May we all do as well.
PAUL G TOMLINSON.
Elizabeth, N. J.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I WAR IS DECLARED II THE SECRET SERVICE AT WORK III BOB HAS A FIGHT IV HEINRICH AND PERCY V ON THE BRIDGE VI HUGH HAS AN IDEA VII IN THE NIGHT VIII A STRANGE OCCURRENCE IX ANOTHER SURPRISE X BOB IS MYSTIFIED XI THE DESERTED HOUSE XII TRAPPED XIII MISTAKEN IDENTITY XIV AN EXPEDITION XV FIRE XVI MORE COMPLICATIONS XVII A MESSAGE XVIII KARL HOFFMANN XIX A DISCUSSION XX ANOTHER SUSPECT XXI ON THE STREET XXII BOB ACTS QUICKLY XXIII UNDER THE LIGHT XXIV AT THE FACTORY XXV A STRUGGLE IN THE DARK XXVI AN EXPEDITION IS PLANNED XXVII A RAID AND A SURPRISEXXVIII CONCLUSION
BOB COOK AND THE GERMAN SPY
CHAPTER I
WAR IS DECLARED
"Well," said Mr. Cook, "I see that the United States has declared war onGermany. I am glad of it, too."
"Why, Robert!" exclaimed Mrs. Cook. "How can you say such a thing? Justthink of all the fine young American boys who may be killed."
"I realize all that," said her husband. "At the same time I agree withPresident Wilson that the German Government has gone mad, and as acivilized nation it is our duty to defend civilization. The only way leftfor us is to go in and give Germany a good beating."
"And I shall enlist and get a commission," cried Harold, their eldestboy. "I am twenty-three years old. I have been at Plattsburg two summers,and I have done a lot of studying; I know I can pass the examinations."
"What will you be if you do pass?" inquired his father. "A lieutenant?"
"Well," said Harold, "a second-lieutenant."
"I wish I could enlist," sighed Bob.
"Huh!" snorted his older brother. "You can't enlist. What militarytraining have you had? And besides, you're only seventeen; they wouldn'ttake you."
The Cook family were seated at the dinner table, mother, father, andthree children, the two boys referred to above and a young daughter,Louise, just thirteen years of age. Congress had that day declared war onGermany, and naturally that was the one thing in every one's mind. Crowdsin front of the newspaper offices had greeted the news from Washingtonwith wild enthusiasm, patriotic parades had been organized, and fromalmost every house and office streamed the Stars and Stripes.
Bob Cook had been among the crowds, and his young mind and heart werefired with patriotism and enthusiasm. A company of soldiers from theThirty-ninth Infantry called out the week before had caused him tocheer and hurl his cap high in the air, while all the time he enviedthe men in khaki.
"I hate to think of you enlisting, Harold," said Mrs. Cook sadly.
"Why?" demanded Harold earnestly. "Don't you think it is my duty tooffer my services to my country! I'm free; no one is dependent upon me."
"I know," agreed his mother, "but somehow I don't like to have my boy goover to France and be killed. Let some one else go."
"Suppose every one said that," exclaimed Harold. "We shouldn't have muchof an army and our country wouldn't be very well defended, would it?"
"Let him go," said Mr. Cook quietly to his wife. "I don't want him killedany more than you do, but there are some things worse than that. Supposehe was afraid to go; you'd be ashamed of your son then I know."
"How do you know I'm going to get killed anyway?" demanded Harold. "Everyone that goes to war doesn't get killed. At any rate it's sort ofgruesome to sit up and hear your family talk as if you were just as goodas dead already."
"True enough," laughed Mr. Cook. "When does your examination come?"
"Next Monday."
"Will you wear a uniform?" asked Louise.
"Why, certainly," said Harold, swelling out his chest at the thought.
"I wish I could enlist," sighed Bob.
"You're too young, I told you," said Harold scornfully.
"I'll bet I could fight as well as you could," said Bob stoutly."Besides, I'm big for my age and maybe if I told them I was older than Ireally am they might take me."
"Don't do that, Bob," said his father earnestly. "Don't lie about it."
"They'd find you out anyway," exclaimed Harold. "You can't fool theserecruiting officers."
"I'd like to get to France and see the trenches, and see the soldiers,and the guns, and the fighting," Bob insisted.
"Do you realize that Harold may never get to France even if he doesenlist and get a commission?" remarked Mr. Cook.
"Why not?"
"First of all on account of Mexico."
"Do you think the Mexicans will make trouble?" inquired Harold.
"I shouldn't be at all surprised," said Mr. Cook. "If they think we haveour hands full with Germany those bandits may stir up a fuss and thentroops would have to be sent down there."
"And Harold might be one of them," laughed Bob. "That would be a joke,wouldn't it?"
"I don't see why," cried Harold warmly. "If troops were needed in Mexicoand I was one of those sent, I'd be serving my country just the same."
"Of course you would," his father agreed. "It might be though that youwouldn't even get out of High Ridge."
"You think they'd keep us right here?" demanded Harold, his face falling.
"Possibly," said Mr. Cook. "It might be that you'd have your handsfull too."
"Do you think the Germans could land an army and invade this country?"exclaimed Mrs. Cook in alarm.
"Not for a minute do I think that," said Mr. Cook.
"Then what do you mean?"
"Aren't there lots of Germans in the country already?"
"Do you think they'd make trouble?"
"Most of them would be peaceable enough, but some of them would only betoo glad to blow up some factories, or railroads, or things like that."
"They've been doing that for the last two years," said Harold, "but Idon't see what there is in High Ridge."
"There's my company," said Mr. Cook. He was president of the High RidgeSteel Company.
"But you don't make war supplies," exclaimed Mrs. Cook. "Why should theywant to blow up your plant?"
"Up until now we haven't manufactured war supplies," Mr. Cook corrected."This afternoon, however, we took a contract from the Government to makehigh explosive shells. And, what is more, we are going to do it at costprice so we shan't make a cent out of it."
"I think that's fine," said Bob enthusi
astically. "Perhaps you'll have tostay home and guard father's factory, Harold."
"Do you think there'll be any danger to it?" Harold asked his father.
"I don't know," replied Mr. Cook. "There are a lot of rabid Germans inHigh Ridge and you can't be sure just what they will do."
The telephone rang at that moment and Bob excused himself to go into thenext room and answer it. Dinner was now over and the rest of his familyshortly followed. As they entered the sitting-room where the telephonewas located, Bob was in the act of hanging up the receiver.
"Who was it, Bob?" asked his mother.
"I don't know; it sounded like a German's voice. At any rate he had thewrong number. He said, 'Iss dis Mr. Vernberg?'"
"Oh, Wernberg," exclaimed Mr. Cook. "He's the man who moved into thathouse down on the corner about two years ago. Karl Wernberg is his fullname and he's one of the worst of the Germans; he used to be an officerin the German army, I understand."
"What do you mean 'he's one of the worst of the Germans'?" asked Harold.
"Why, the way he talks against the United States and for Germany. He'smade all his money here, too."
"What's his business?"
"Some kind of chemicals, I believe."
"Perhaps he's making bombs," laughed Harold, and the rest of the familyjoined in the laugh. That is, all but Bob, who took the suggestionseriously, and his heart thumped a beat faster at the thought.
In fact, as he went to bed that night his mind was filled with thoughtsof spies, and plotters, and the hundred and one other things connectedwith the war that he and his family had discussed that evening. He wentto the closet and took out the .22 caliber rifle that he owned; it wasin good condition and Bob assured himself that he had plenty ofcartridges, though he knew so small a gun would be of but little use intime of trouble.
As he undressed he thought over the events of the day. Never had heexperienced such excitement. War had been declared, and many of the youngmen, not much older than he, had enlisted. He, too, wanted to go in theworst way, but he knew that his father and brother were right when theysaid he would not be accepted.
"Why not?" muttered Bob to himself. "I'm big enough and strong enoughtoo; I could stand it as well as most of those fellows, even if they areolder. Besides I weigh a hundred and fifty-three and I'm five feet nineinches tall. Perhaps they won't take me because I've got light hair andblue eyes," he murmured bitterly. "They think I look like a German."
Stripped to the skin he stood in front of the mirror and looked athimself. Certainly he was big and strong. He had always lived a clean,outdoor life, he had been active in athletics and right now was captainof the high school baseball team. The muscles played and rippled underhis white skin, as he moved his lithe young body to and fro.
A few breathing exercises before he jumped into bed, and then he wasunder the covers. And all night long he dreamed of chasing big fatGermans up and down the streets, over fences, and across fields, and evenup the steep sides of houses. Usually just as he had caught up with themhe awoke. Most of all he dreamed he was pursuing Karl Wernberg, who was amiddle-aged German and not hard to overtake. But Bob did not catch himbecause he always woke up too soon.
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