"I'll do for you now!" fairly roared Wilbur, as he came back with a rush at Roger. The latter was in a bad way, for he had slipped and had sustained a terrific blow from Wilbur's fist. But the remaining Bixton had not counted on Jimmy, and now Roger's chum could come to his aid. And this Jimmy did.
As Wilbur swung past him, to deliver what he hoped would be a finishing blow to Roger, Jimmy put out his foot and tripped the scoundrel.
Wilbur went down heavily, the breath being driven from his body. His head struck against a table leg, so stunning him that it was an easy matter for Roger and Jimmy to leap on him and secure him. Roger, greatly exhausted, sat on Bixton's chest.
"I—I'm all in! I quit!" the signal corps man gasped. "Let me get up!"
"Not much!" panted Jimmy. "We've got you where we want you now. Lively, Roger. We've got to bind and gag these fellows."
"What's the idea of gagging them?"
"So they won't tell we're here."
"Tell who we're here?" asked Roger, who did not get his chum's meaning.
"The Germans who are coming here to carry out some secret pact. You know what we overheard these fellows saying. Well, now I'm going to hide here and see the show out when the Heinies arrive. We'll bind these fellows and hide 'em. Then we'll wait for Mr. Carl Anker and Mr. Fritz Ammann, whoever they may be."
At the mention of these names Wilbur Bixton squirmed, and tried to shake off Roger.