boy was very quick. His hand leaped from the drawer like a snake,
and Ford found himself looking into a revolver of the largest calibre
issued by a civilized people. Birrell fell upon the boy's shoulders,
Herbert twisted the gun from his fingers and hurled it through the
window, and almost as quickly hurled himself down the steps of the
tower. Birrell leaped after him. Ford remained only long enough to
shout: "Don't touch that instrument! If you attempt to send a message
through, we will shoot. We go to cut the wires!"

For a minute, the boy in the tower sat rigid, his ears strained, his
heart beating in sharp, suffocating stabs. Then, with his left arm
raised to guard his face, he sank to his knees and, leaning forward
across the table, inviting as he believed his death, he opened the
circuit and through the night flashed out a warning to his people.

When they had taken their places in the car, Herbert touched Ford on the
shoulder.

"Your last remark," he said, "was that what we wanted was a live one."

"Don't mention it!" said Ford. "He jammed that gun half down my throat.
I can taste it still. Where do we go from here?"

"According to the route we mapped out this afternoon," said Herbert, "We
are now scheduled to give exhibitions at the coast towns of Salthouse
and Weybourne, but--"

"Not with me!" exclaimed Birrell fiercely. "Those towns have been tipped
off by now by Blakeney and Cley, and the Boy Scouts would club us to
death. I vote we take the back roads to Morston, and drop in on a lonely
Coast Guard. If a Coast Guard sees us, the authorities will have to
believe him, and they'll call out the navy."

Herbert consulted his map.

"There is a Coast Guard," he said, "stationed just the other side of
Morston. And," he added fervently, "let us hope he's lonely."

They lost their way in the back roads, and when they again reached the
coast an hour had passed. It was now quite dark. There were no stars,
nor moon, but after they had left the car in a side lane and had stepped
out upon the cliff, they saw for miles along the coast great beacon
fires burning fiercely.

Herbert came to an abrupt halt.

"Since seeing those fires," he explained, "I feel a strange reluctance
about showing myself in this uniform to a Coast Guard."

"Coast Guards don't shoot!" mocked Birrell. "They only look at the
clouds through a telescope. Three Germans with rifles ought to be able
to frighten one Coast Guard with a telescope.