“Don’t you believe it,” disagreed Bob. “This affair won’t come to a head in a hurry. There’ll be more or less delay and argument over the poison itself. Then there’ll be a merry chase for more evidence. The K. O.’s not anxious to see one of our men condemned for murder. There are so many German plots floating around that this business will be thoroughly sifted first. Suppose the poison had been mixed in the rice before it was cooked or put in the milk. All that has to be looked into and it will be. The papers say that the Secretary of War intends to investigate this thing to the limit. That means he’s going to give Schnitz a chance for his life.”
“Maybe Bixton had something to do with the poisoning,” Jimmy theorized. “He’s a slacker. We know that. Maybe he’s a traitor, too.”
“Nothing doing.” Bob shook his head. “He’s only mixed up in queering Schnitz. He saw his chance and grabbed it. I’d sooner think it might be one of the fellows on kitchen detail with Schnitzel than Bixton. Bix and Iggy both finished their kitchen detail at the same time.”
“Tough luck.” Jimmy vented his feelings in his favorite expression.
“Tough it is, but maybe not forever. My fighting blood is up, and I’m going to camp on the trail of that hound, Bixton, until I get something definite to hang on him,” vowed Bob. “I want you two to keep an eye on him whenever you can. Watch where he goes, what he does, and the men he talks with. Be careful not to let him catch you at it, though. That’ll be your part of the scheme.” Bob rose and rolled up the newspaper he had been reading.
“What are you going to do. What’s your part going to be?” Jimmy wanted to know.
“Same as yours, only more so,” grinned Bob. “I’m going to gather information about that kitchen detail, Bixton, Eldridge and anyone else who needs looking up. I’m going to be an investigator.”
Bob’s earnest proposal that the three of them take to sleuthing on their own hook fired the enthusiasm of both Roger and Jimmy. Here was a real mystery to solve, more baffling than any they had ever followed in fiction. On their ability to ferret it out rested not only Schnitzel’s life, but the saving of his good name from eternal dishonor.
The next two days, however, were painfully devoid of results. Close and constant watch on Bixton developed nothing that could be used against him.