"Those are private notes," he said. "I was sent over here to make what discoveries I could along certain lines."
"What, did I tell you, Gustav?" broke in Otto, turning to his brother officer and speaking in a low tone. "There is the whole thing! He was a spy sent to make discoveries along 'certain lines.' He confesses that. He has succeeded in doing so. The book tells us that."
"Wait, wait!" begged Gustav. "Professor Morris, do you understand that you are here facing a most serious charge?"
"It is a silly, trumped up charge," declared the Professor, irritably.
"Silly trumped up charge! I absolutely will not answer your questions.
Wait until you hear from the American Consul."
"We won't hear from him," said Gustav gently. "You are in our hands, bearing suspicious documents, and you refuse to answer our questions. Do you realize the seriousness of this affair?"
"Certainly not!" declared the Professor, "and let me tell you, my young friend, I shall write this thing up in the papers when I return to America. I shall make public your personal attitude in the matter. At the present all I demand is release and that manuscript on the table beside you. Also my notebook." He bowed slightly and stood waiting as though he fully expected the officers to do his bidding, as indeed he did.
"Will you explain your notes?" asked Gustav quietly.
Otto was nervously biting his small moustache, his eyes fixed on
Evelyn's lovely face.
"No! No!" cried the Professor loudly, "a thousand times no! I refuse to share with you the results of my researches. What, and have you get the credit of all my labor? Never!" He clenched his hands.
"Father—" began Evelyn pleadingly.