WINCKEL CALLS A HALT
There were glaring headlines in the newspapers the next morning. War was on. People who had doubted all along, who could not believe it possible, now had to believe. And, although England was as yet not involved, no one was optimistic enough to imagine that she would stay out of it.
Around newspaper offices, everywhere, excited, eager groups discussed it all. Many a man heard the thrilling call of his native land and many listened and made plans to return to either Germany, Russia, England or France.
Yet neither in headlines nor in the ordinary run of news, was there mention made of the events of our story. Silent, powerful forces were at work to keep it quiet.
The automobile of Herr Winckel stopped before his house and from it Schmidt, 81 O’Reilly and the owner alighted. They made their way to the cellar, a precaution as to the safekeeping of the prisoners. O’Reilly and Schmidt were to be guests of Winckel for the night. Much work had been planned for the morning.
“Quiet, aren’t they?” said Schmidt, as Winckel started to turn on the light.
“I guess they are asleep,” remarked O’Reilly. The light glared. A moment’s hush. There were astonished and wondering exclamations. The ropes which had held the prisoners tied, were strewn about, but the prisoners were nowhere.
“What can it mean?” exclaimed Winckel, searching vainly for an explanation.
Wild guesses were made by the three as to how the escape was made.
“Well,” said Winckel after awhile, “never mind how they escaped, the important thing is—how much have they found out of our plans.” He showed plainly how disturbed he was.