Amos was no longer sleepy; indeed, the boy had never been more
wideawake in all the course of his life. What his cousin had just
whispered in his ear was enough to thrill him through and through.
“Can I see, too?” he asked eagerly, as though it would gratify him very
much if able to satisfy his curiosity in this regard.
“Yes, but creep along softly, and be careful,” he was instructed by
Jack.
Accordingly Amos began to move along after Jack, who led him directly
to the spot where he had found the widest crack. Presently both boys
were flat on their stomachs, and with their eyes glued to the slender
aperture.
Apparently Amos had no trouble about seeing, for before long he drew
back again. The murmur of low voices came up to them from below, and
he had found that it was just as Jack said.
A young man had come in, and was talking very earnestly with the
old people. Whatever it was engrossed their attention they glanced
suspiciously about them from time to time. Amos, looking further, had
seen that the bar was again across the door, and also that every little
window was carefully covered with some sort of dark material that would
prevent prying eyes from peering through into the room.
That some of the conversation had a connection with the two lads was
evidenced from the way the man pointed upward more than once. Amos,
too, believed he caught a German word spoken by one of the conspirators
below.
Was this a secret spy, and if so had that apparently harmless old
couple been bribed by German gold to betray the cause of their country?
It was a dreadful thought, and made Amos feel as cold as ice; for like
most American boys he had a perfect horror of treachery.
“Jack!” he whispered softly, touching the other with his groping hand.
“Yes, what is it?” asked his comrade in the same cautious way, though
the patter of the still falling rain on the nearby roof would very
likely have drowned what little noise their voices made.
“It looks bad, don’t you think?” asked Amos, as though eager to have
his own view confirmed by the opinion of his partner.
“It certainly does, I’m afraid,” said Jack.
“They act like they are plotting with that stranger,” suggested Amos.
It was just what Jack had been telling himself. In fact, the actions of
the old couple could be set down as mighty suspicious. All the while
they talked in those low tones they were looking toward the barred
door, and then up in the direction of the loft, just as guilty persons
might be expected to do.
Of course, in those trying times, for a Belgian to be caught having
secret connection with the enemy was equivalent to signing his own
death warrant, for there would be little mercy shown, no matter how
old and infirm he or she chanced to be. If, therefore, this couple were
treading on this dangerous ground, their confusion and nervousness when
the boys asked lodging could be readily understood; they had expected a
visit from the spy, and were afraid that the so-called Americans might
learn of his presence.
Jack was puzzled to know what might be the right course for them to
pursue under such extraordinary conditions. He felt sorry for that old
couple. Necessity might have forced them to accept a bribe and betray
their own kind.
Then again the idea of treachery was so repellent that the boy could
find no palliation for the dastardly crime. A spy may be a brave man,
taking his life in his hand in order to gain secret information that
will improve the chances of the cause he advocates; a traitor is a
sneak who, for gain, turns on his best friend.
Accordingly Jack hardened his heart against that old couple. They
had appealed to his sympathy on account of their age and apparent
infirmity; but even that must not be used as a cloak to defend their
base conduct. Many lives of brave fighting men among the Allies might
be lost through the information they were even now confiding to that
heavy-set young German spy.
Jack again lay flat so as to watch, and Amos copied his example. It
was not easy to ask questions and hear the answers; so that perhaps he
could gather up more information by using his own eyes.
Apparently those below were more than ever alarmed over the possibility
of interruption from some source. Even as the two boys in the loft
overhead renewed their eavesdropping tactics they saw that the old man
had pressed a finger on his lips as though he would entail silence on
the other two.
After that he glided over and carefully lifted the table that stood in
one part of the apartment, and which was different from the larger one
at which they had partaken of that evening meal some time before.
Amos, seeing what he was doing, glued his eye more eagerly than ever
to the crevice, not wishing to lose a single thing. He watched the old
man cast aside a piece of rag carpet that had covered this section of
floor. Then to the surprise of the boys he lifted a regular trap in the
floor, disclosing a dark aperture.
Why, it was just like one of those old-time stories Amos could remember
reading, that pertained to haunted mansions, traps in the floor, secret
chambers, and passages, and even tunnels leading out from the cellars
underneath. The boy could almost believe he must be dreaming, and yet,
as he put out his hand and felt Jack alongside, he knew it was the real
thing.
Undoubtedly they meant that the spy should hide there, for some reason
or other. The old woman had a bundle in her hand that might contain
food, Amos concluded, and this she turned over to the stranger. Whoever
the party was he did not seem at all averse to vanishing in those black
depths; in fact, Amos considered that he acted as though only too
willing.
There must have been some sort of ladder leading downward, for they
could see him descending. Then the woman ran over and, snatching up
the candle from the shelf, held it as though more or less solicitous
that the other might not slip and lose his footing on the rounds of the
ladder.
The boys saw the unknown flip his hand upwards just before he was
utterly lost to sight in the gloom that lay heavy down under the trap.
Then the old man lifted the section of flooring and allowed it to fall
back into place again, though careful that it made no perceptible sound
while so doing.
After that the strip of rag carpet was carefully replaced, and on top
of that he lifted the table. All was as innocent looking as before, and
no one not in the secret would ever suspect that down underneath the
cottage floor lay a strange secret and which had all the earmarks of
treachery to the cause of the Allies.
The old man and his wife now moved to the other end of the room. They
were talking it all over in soft tones, and Amos could see that
apparently the man tried to encourage his better half, for he seemed to
be assuring her that what they were doing was for the best.
Amos, lying there a prey to varied thoughts, was sorry for them. He
actually believed that the temptation must have been too much for their
standard of loyalty to their sorely stricken country. With the gold
they would receive for this work perhaps they meant to go to America,
there to build a new home amidst strangers, and forget if they could
the land they had betrayed.
“Oh! it’s too cruel, and I can hardly believe any one would be so mean
as to do such a thing,” Amos was saying to himself, as though trying
his best to find a gleam of comfort.
Jack, pulling at his arm, aroused him.
“Let’s get back to the mattress, and talk it over,” the Western boy
said in his ear, and at that they both began to move softly along, Jack
apparently having a thorough knowledge of the attic, as though he had
made a mental map of his surroundings at the time the candle still
burned.
Once again they stretched themselves out there. If a board creaked
under their weight, as they moved so cautiously, it could easily have
been mistaken for a gust of wind outside whining around the corners of
the cottage.
Amos was eager to hear from his chum. He placed such an exaggerated
value upon Jack’s opinions that in this emergency he wanted to learn
what the other thought about it, what their course should be, and all
other things along similar lines.
“Do you still think that he must be a spy, Jack?” he asked, to get a
start made.
“I can’t see anything else so far,” replied the other. “Their fear of
being interrupted seemed to say as much. Then the several words spoken
in plain German make that stronger. It must be the man is afraid to go
out again, which was why they’ve hidden him down in the cellar.”
“P’raps what information they mean to give him isn’t quite complete
yet, and he’ll have to stay over until the next night?” suggested Amos.
“That isn’t a bad idea,” commented the ranch boy, soberly.
“But, Jack, what ought we do about it?” asked Amos. “’Course this isn’t
any funeral of ours. We’re neutrals; but I hate a traitor so much I
feel like setting my heel on one as I would on a viper. If these silly
old people have gone and sold themselves for German gold, they ought to
be punished for it. That’s what I think, Jack; now tell me if you’re of
the same mind,” and Amos stopped whispering to give his chum a chance
to speak.