"That's all right. This is a thousand times more serious than I knew just now. Vibach's here."
"What!" I cried.
"It's true. I've seen him. He's been half-killed, drugged, and stripped of his uniform. He was found locked in a wardrobe of one of the Halbermond's bedrooms."
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, appropriately flabbergasted. "Then who's the man here?"
"The ruffian who did it, of course. Evidently a plot to get hold of one of our newest planes. The ruffian has stolen Vibach's uniform so as to personate him."
"Never heard such a thing in my life. What shall I do?"
"Keep him till we can get over."
"But he's armed, I expect."
"He'll have Vibach's revolver, of course. You'll have to be careful. Perhaps the best thing will be to keep him in play. Let him think you're going to give him the bus, and let your men tinker with it for a quarter of an hour or so; I shall be with you by then; and when he speaks to me, I'll put him off the scent by saying I can't get over for an hour."
"I can manage that easily. He's coming now," I said, hearing Harden's voice in the outer room. I paused a moment or two, shuffled my feet, and then spoke in my own voice. "You there, Schiller?" I asked sharply.