"I understand your position," said the man; "and while it explains many things it does not change our design to prevent the enemy from profiting by your improved type of machine. If by any means it can be stolen or destroyed we believe we are only doing our duty by the Fatherland in risking our lives to attempt it."
"Well, here comes the patrol to take you to the city prison; and, remember, you are to insist that you entered our hangar to steal, not to spy on us," Frank told him.
"You will restore to me my papers, I hope?" remarked the man.
"If you mean the naturalization papers that stamp you as one Hans Larsen, formerly of Sweden," replied Frank, "I am going to put them in your inside pocket. But they will be taken by the officials, and I doubt if you ever see them again. They must know they are either stolen, bought, or forged, and that you only carry them to give trouble in case you are arrested."
He was as good as his word, for he had taken the papers to show the Major in case any proof were desired after his story had been told.
Then came the file of British soldiers, direct from Major Nixon. They brought a note from the officer to Frank and his chums, desiring that the prisoner be turned over, and also stating that the word he had given Frank would be religiously kept.
The spy walked away in the midst of his guards, who had orders not to let him communicate with anyone on the way. In order to make more positive of this, they had a covered wagon close by, in which he was to be conveyed to the jail.
"I'm glad we're free from him," said Billy, after they had watched the party leaving the stockade.
"You don't think there would be any attempt made at trying to rescue him while they're on the way?"
"Sugar and sandwiches, but I should hope not!" exclaimed Pudge.
Frank did not seem to be worrying about such a remote possibility.
"No, I don't think they're numerous enough to risk an encounter with a dozen armed Tommies looking for trouble, just as Pudge here would look for his breakfast," he observed.
"Now we've got the place all to ourselves," said Billy. "There's such a thing as being overcrowded, as the backwoodsman remarked when he heard that another family had started a clearing three miles away from his shack. But I'd like to have been down in Dunkirk when they sighted those gulls coming sailing along, ever so high up in the air."