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"Did he really do that? Did he say that?" exclaimed the king. "Eckert, I am pleased with you for that, and will reward you.
Philip Eckert lived for many years in an old, weather-stained wooden house about three miles from the little town of Marion, in Vermont. There must be quite a number of persons living who remember him, not unkindly, I trust, and know something of the story that I am about to tell. "Old Man Eckert," as he was always called, was not of a sociable disposition and lived alone.
As she remained at anchor, just outside the city, crowds of Swiss people came out to look at the wonderful craft. But Tom and his companions took care that no one got aboard, and they kept a strict lookout for Americans, or Englishmen, thinking perhaps that Mr. Eckert, or the spy, might try to get the camera. However, they did not see them, and a few days after the receipt of the message from Mr.
The spying stranger, and William Eckert, were not in sight when the two lads came out. "They got away mighty quick," remarked Tom, as he looked up and down the street. "Yes, they probably saw us turn to come out, and made a quick get-away.
The next day Eckert sent for me, and I was taken up to Gould's house, which was near the Windsor Hotel, Fifth Avenue. In the basement he had an office. It was in the evening, and we went in by the servants' entrance, as Eckert probably feared that he was watched. Gould started in at once and asked me how much I wanted.
It does seem to me that the boys must be blind to overlook such an obvious and simple trick as that." Eckert received us heartily a pleasant-spoken, gentle-mannered creature.
That one spy was on guard, and, as soon as you came, he went and summoned Eckert, who was waiting somewhere in the neighborhood." "Bless my detective story!" cried Mr. Damon. "What a state of affairs! They ought to be arrested, Tom." "It would be useless," said Mr. Nestor. "They are probably far enough away by this time. Or else they have put others on Tom's track."
"I say," said Eckert suddenly, "who's that girl across the street there the one in black, just going by that furrier's sign? I've seen her somewhere before. Know who it is?" "That's Miss Bessemer, isn't it?" said George Hands, leaning forward. "Rather a stunning-looking girl." "Yes, that's Travis Bessemer," assented Jack Carter; adding, a moment later, "it's too bad about that girl."
The others saw the flashing eyes of the king, as he raised his stick still higher. They saw Eckert enter, with his head bowed down and then the door was closed, and nothing more was heard. "Against which of us is the anger of the king directed?" faltered Pollnitz. "Against one and all," said the servant, with a most malicious expression.
While the king was conversing with Von Eckert on the subject of his new house, Pollnitz turned to his neighbor and asked if he had not made ample amends for his awkwardness in the first instance.
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