During the hasty but thorough search of the lads’ clothing Jimmie grinned maliciously into he faces of the soldiers. His delight knew no rounds. Their discomfiture upon failing to find the package was exceeded only by the delight of the lad, who prudently held his own counsel.
“There must have been a mistake!” at length declared the officer impatiently. “We cannot delay the train longer. Permit them to proceed!”
“But I swear I discovered in their luggage a suspicious parcel!”
“It is not here! The young gentlemen do not seem to have it! In the face of their apparently correct passports and this courteous request from their friend, von Moltke, I am not justified in holding them longer! Young men, you may resume your journey!”
Thanking the officer in grateful acknowledgment of his courtesy the lads again found their compartment. Scarcely had they regained their former position before the train again began to move.
“Now, Ned,” began Harry, as the wheels once more clicked over the rail joints, “produce! Let’s have the secret!”
“Produce nothing!” declared Ned. “I have nothing to produce!”
“The package, man, the mysterious package of contraband spy literature!” demanded Harry in a serious tone. “What secrets are you carrying out of this country to help the English?”
“I tell you I have nothing at all! I don’t know what that package contained, nor do I know where it came from!”