“You’ve got to pay the full amount,” growled Mr. Brown. “I won’t take off a cent!”
“That’s the talk!” broke in Mr. Martell. “And you ought not to kick, either. We have taken terrible chances in having these things supplied to you.”
“Yes, and don’t forget that you would never have had this secret base on Barlight Bay if it hadn’t been for me,” put in Slogwell Brown.
“We’re not forgetting anything,” said one of the Germans. “And if you insist upon it that we owe you that amount, we will pay it.”
The man who had come in on the motorcycle had opened his valise, and now he took out several packages of banknotes. Evidently Brown and Martell were to be paid in cash. Probably they had refused to accept anything in the way of a check.
The money had just been paid over and some receipts given when the leader of the Secret Service men gave the order, and the cabin was immediately surrounded.
“Hands up in there, everybody!” was the stern command.
If Slugger and Nappy had been surprised, their fathers were even more so, while the two Germans were taken completely off their guard. Each of the latter was armed, but one look at the United States officers with their pistols and the soldiers with their rifles was too much for them, and with grunts of disgust they threw their hands into the air.
“Who—what—I—er—I don’t understand this,” stammered Slogwell Brown, turning pale.
“There—there—must be—er—some mistake,” faltered Nelson Martell, and then with shaking knees he sank slowly back on a bench.