The man's face fell. We both entered, but so surprised was he that he could utter no protest.
We saw that on the table beneath the lamp was spread a number of photographs and papers.
He had been writing upon a sheet of foolscap and the writing was in German.
"Yes," exclaimed Ray in a tone of satisfaction as he bent over to glance at the first few lines. "I see. You report: 'The upper plane is somewhat curved, with an——'"
"What's my business to do with you, pray?" the man asked defiantly in excellent English.
"Well, your business has interested me greatly, Herr Straus," calmly replied my companion, "and I congratulate you upon the ingenious method by which you got a sight of the Kershaw aeroplane at an early hour this morning. I was at Lochindorb with you—and rather cold waiting, wasn't it?"
The man now recognised gave vent to a quick imprecation.
"I see you've just developed that photograph you took in secret as she sailed within twenty yards of you! But I shall trouble you to give it over to me, together with the rough sketch I see, and your written description of our new military invention," he said, with mock politeness.
"I don't know you—and I shall do nothing of the sort."
"I know you, Karl Straus, as a spy of Germany," exclaimed my friend, with a grin. "Your reputation for ingenuity and cunning reached us from France"; and snatching up the sheet of foolscap he turned to me, saying, "Listen to this, Jack," and while the German agent stood biting his lips in chagrin at being discovered at the eleventh hour, my friend read aloud the spy's report, as follows: