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If one was, I guess he'll think we are keeping pretty closely after him, and he may give this part of the country a wide berth." "I hope he does," returned Tom. "Do you know, Ned, I have an idea that these fellows Schwen Simpson, and those back of them, including Blakeson are trying to get hold of the secret of my tank for the Germans." "I shouldn't be surprised.
"Well, it seems like a silly thing to say as if I imagined my tank was all there was in this part of the country to make trouble but I believe those men had some connection with Simpson and with that spy Schwen!" "I agree with you!" exclaimed Ned.
"It is?" cried Tom. "Then things begin to fit themselves together. Simpson is a spy, and he was probably trying to communicate with Schwen. But the latter didn't get the information he wanted, or, if he did get it, he wasn't able to pass it on to the man in the tree. Eradicate nipped him just in time." And, so it seemed, the colored man had done.
"Carl Schwen!" exclaimed Tom. "So it was you, was it?" The German, for such he was, did not answer for a moment He appeared downcast, and as if suffering. Then a change came over him. He straightened up, saluted as a soldier might have done, and a sneering look came into his face.
Meanwhile Schwen and Otto Kuhn, the other man involved, had been locked up, and all their papers given into the charge of the United States authorities. A closer guard than ever was kept over No. 13 shop, and some of the workmen, against whom there was a slight suspicion, were transferred. "Well, we'll see what we shall see," mused Ned on the appointed evening, when a telephone message from Mr.
I knew you were a German, Schwen, but I kept you employed at work that could not, by any possibility, be considered as used against your country. You are a good machinist, and I needed you. But if what I hear about you is true, it is the end." "It is the end," said the man simply. "I tried and failed. If it had not been for Eradicate Well, he's smarter than I gave him credit for, that's all!"
"He must have some connection with my old enemy, Blakeson," answered Tom, "and we know he's mixed up with Schwen. From the looks of him I should say that this Simpson, as he calls himself, is the directing head of the whole business. He looks to be the moneyed man, and the brains of the plotters. Blakeson is smart, in a mechanical way, and Schwen is one of the best machinists I've ever employed.
For shortly afterward government secret service agents rounded up the chief members of the gang, including Simpson and Blakeson. They, with Schwen, were sent to an internment camp for the period of the war, and enough information was obtained from them to disclose all the workings of the plot.
He realized immediately what his chum meant when he called out the identity of the intruder, and, wishing to clear up some of the mystery of which he became aware when Schwen was arrested and the paper showing a correspondence with this Simpson were found, Tom darted out to try to assist in the capture.
Now let's get at the bottom of this." Schwen was, after a little delay, taken in charge by the proper officer, and then a search was made of his room, for, in common with some of the other workmen, he lived in a boarding house not far from the plant. There, by a perusal of his papers, enough was revealed to show Tom the danger he had escaped.
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