“And do you know,” continued Père Goubain, with vehemence, “that when the German officers learned the aviator’s name, astounding as it may seem, they told him many facts concerning his own history.”
“But how in the world did the Boches ever learn them?” demanded Peur Jamais.
“As I said before, spies are everywhere; one cannot know whom to trust. Listen, my friends: not a hundred years ago, one of the officers belonging to a training school was actually discovered to be a spy.”
“Whew! That’s going some!” declared Sid Marlow to Don, while Peur Jamais, eagerness expressed in his eyes, began to look curiously about him, as though vaguely suspicious that perhaps some among those gathered together were not all they pretended to be.
Before Père Goubain could resume, several newcomers, also Americans, bustled past the door.
General interest was immediately aroused by the discovery that one carried a bundle of Parisian dailies.
But the old innkeeper had started to say something, and he intended to finish.
“Yes, Messieurs, the Boches possess many ways of obtaining information. For instance, I learned from another officer that spies have even boldly descended into the French or British lines, flying in airplanes captured from the Allies. Naturally, some of these pilots spoke excellent French; others the English tongue equally well. Naturally, also, having all the appearance of belonging to the cause of freedom and justice, they escaped suspicion at the time, and were thus enabled to pick up much valuable information.”
“Very interesting!” drawled one of the late comers. “But what’s all that got to do with Captain Baron Von Richtofen?”
“Captain Baron Von Richtofen?” cried Peur Jamais, interrogatively.