It was the voice of Von Lertz which broke in upon the pleasant musings which the message had aroused.
"If that is intended for an invitation, there is nothing I would like better," responded Dixie quickly. "Will the Baroness and Madame accompany us?"
"They must remain here, for their work may begin any time," returned the spy and then escorted Dixie to a little roadster which he had procured.
There was but little conversation on the drive out. At the canal Von Lertz drove to three of the locks and carefully surveyed the surrounding land. As the inspection progressed his spirits rose rapidly.
"Good, good," he chuckled, half to Dixie and half to himself, "Koenig certainly knew what he was doing in selecting the men for this job."
On the return trip he chatted gaily, and seemed to be in no hurry to get back to the hotel, keeping the speed of the car well down to the road limit. Despite this, just as they entered the boundaries of Buffalo, a heavily goggled motorcycle policeman, blocked the road.
"Ten miles an hour's the limit on this road," he announced gruffly and Von Lertz brought the car to a surprised stop.
"Ten miles an hour?" demanded the angered spy, "why there isn't a car built that can stand that sort of a snail's pace."
"Ten miles an hour" reiterated the officer and Dixie recognized a ring on the finger of the hand extended toward Von Lertz. Quickly her hand dropped over the side of the car and for a moment her finger was busy writing in the dust which had collected there, while the now thoroughly incensed German volleyed a heated tirade at the policeman, who contented himself with repetitions of "ten miles an hour's the limit."
The attitude of the officer suddenly changed as Dixie's hand was withdrawn into the car and lay idle in her lap.