"I'd like to know what they're doing there," said Dick.
"So would I, but it's open country, and they're probably keeping a close lookout. They're really safer doing that in the open than on the roof of a house, out here in the country."
"Because they can hide the heliograph? It's portable, isn't it?"
"Yes. They could stow it away in a minute, if they were alarmed. I fancy we'll find them using hilltops now as much as they can."
"Harry, I've just thought of something. If they've planned so carefully as this, wouldn't they be likely to have country places, where they'd be less likely to be disturbed?"
"Yes, they would. You're right, Dick. Especially as we get further and further away from London. I suppose there must be plenty of places a German could buy or lease."
"And perhaps people wouldn't even know they were Germans, if they spoke good English, and didn't have an accent."
That suggestion of Dick's bore fruit. For the third station they found was evidently hidden away in a private park. It was in the outskirts of a little village, and Harry and Dick had no trouble at all in finding out all the villagers knew of the place.
"'Twas taken a year ago by a rich American gentleman, with a sight of motor cars and foreign-looking servants," they were told. "Very high and mighty he is, too—does all his buying at the stores in Lunnon, and don't give local trade any of his patronage."
The two scouts exchanged glances. Their suspicions were confirmed in a way. But it was necessary to be sure; to be suspicious was not enough for them.