“But they will suspect. They will shoot you.”
“No, they will not. Have I not told you that I have thought out a plan?”
“I will listen to it.”
Lindberg meanwhile had been unstrapping his pistol holster and put it on a chair.
Hammersley glanced over his shoulder at the door. “But they may come again,” he whispered.
“I think not. There is little time to lose. We will have to take the chance.”
“But if they return and find me free it will only cause your death and do me no good.”
“Herr Hammersley, you should know by this time that I do not waste words. Have I not told you that I have made a plan? Listen. This is my story for Herr Hauptmann Wentz. I happen to be in the hallway without, carrying a pitcher of water to the room of Miss Mather—the pitcher is outside on the table—when I hear the sounds of a commotion in this room. Fearing that the prisoner has by some miracle gotten free, I unlock the door with my pass-key and enter. You have burned your bonds and killed Senf. You spring on me and make me a prisoner——” He paused.
“And you——” Hammersley broke in. “You will be left here? No, I won’t leave you—not to that fate. I will not go unless you go with me. We will contrive a way to get out of the country.”