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To what end could it have been placed under the rock on the edge of the overflow-stream from the Elmvale Dam? Whistler had little to say himself during that meal at Yancey's. He heard nothing more from the next booth, for Blake seemed to manage the half drunken skipper of the Sarah Coville with better judgment. By and by the two men left the restaurant.
MacMasters at Rivermouth day after to-morrow. But our ultimate destination is the Kennebunk, superdreadnaught, just built and fitted out for her first cruise. You know, she was only christened a month ago." Even the Elmvale disaster and the mystery regarding the German spy, Franz Linder, were at once ousted from the minds of the Navy boys.
Below the Main Street bridge in Elmvale, the channel of the river was much wider than above the bridge. It was navigable for small vessels, too, from Seacove to that point.
MacMasters told me he read in an American paper that he just got hold of that they have arrested Franz Linder, the spy. He will be tried for blowing up the Elmvale dam. And I guess we had something to do to getting evidence that will convict him.
The terrible disaster at Elmvale, however, had sobered the four friends a good bit at the last. Seven Knott had gone away before it happened, so he had had no part in their later adventures. They were not even sure that he had gone to join the crew of the Kennebunk, the new superdreadnaught to which they were assigned for a brief cruise.
But what he had seen at Elmvale, and the presence of Blake on the oil tender, led in his mind to but one conclusion. Blake and his companion referred to the former's work in Elmvale. And what was that work? Not merely the peaceful occupation of chemist in the laboratory of the munition factory.
Santley at the munition factory over the telephone. In fact, they had no idea what they would do, or what they would say to Mr. Santley. The car roared on, the dogs barked behind them, and finally they came to the slope leading down into Elmvale. Lights were already twinkling in the valley. But the mills were closed, and even the munition factory seemed deserted.
The older man, Hans Hertig, was round-faced and solemn looking, and seldom had much to say. He had had an adventurous experience both as a fisherman and naval seaman, and really attracted more attention in his home town than did the four boy chums. "Get in, fellows," urged Torry. "We want to be sure to catch those chaps at Elmvale during the noon hour.
"I almost swallowed my gum." "Who's sick?" demanded Ikey. "Nobody. Sit down," adjured Whistler. "We're going to Elmvale." "Wow, wow!" yelled Frenchy. "What for?" "We don't know till we get there," declared Torry suddenly grinning. Torry increased the speed the very next moment. There were not many constables around Seacove, and the first five miles of the road to Elmvale was perfectly straight.
Two bridges crossed the river at Elmvale; one at the village proper and the other just below the dam itself and about half a mile from the first mill, Barron & Brothers' Thread Factory. "Let's take the upper road," proposed Frenchy, as the car came within sight of the chimneys of the Elmvale mills. "We've plenty of time before the noon whistle blows.
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