officers when they were interned.
Someone on board said he had died the day before the ship was seized and
that was all anybody knew about him. He must have been quietly cruising
around the country ever since, disguised and posing as an artist,
working himself into one locality after another where he could get
information that was of service to his fatherland. These drawings here
are mostly of airplane parts which he's picked up in various places and
his sketches are mostly all rivers and bridges.

"Eugene Prince, indeed! '_Prinz Eugen, der edle Ritter,'_ that's what
they used to call him in college, after an old student song. He had such
winning ways he could take up with anybody. Nobody on earth was proof
against his charm. You see how it has worked with yourself, Mr. Wing. He
made himself such a delightful companion, and became of such real
service to you in your work of trailing enemy agents that you never
suspected he wasn't the most patriotic American alive. You would have
staked your soul on it. When he found out you had this letter which tied
up old Prince Karl Augustus with your strike case, he managed to get it
away from you and so scored one for the Prince, who is a good friend of
his. At the same time he was clever enough to throw suspicion over onto
this little Hungarian girl friend of yours, and if this goat hadn't
butted in just at the right time he probably never would have been found
out. As it is, he'll probably never be caught now. He's too clever.
He'll fool the officers yet, as he's done before." Sleep came slowly to
the girls that night, there had been so much excitement during the day,
but one by one they dropped off at last, even Sahwah, who was so wide
awake she thought she would never sleep again. Sometime after midnight
the doorbell rang, a loud, ferocious peal that clanged through the
silent house like a fire alarm and fetched Sahwah sitting upright in bed
with a beating heart. "What's that?" came in a startled tone from
Hinpoha's room.

"The doorbell," answered Sahwah, jumping out of bed and putting on her
slippers. The other girls were awake by this time, calling to each
other. The bell pealed again.

"Don't you go to the door!" cried Hinpoha hoarsely, as she saw Sahwah
preparing to go down. "It may be the artist coming back to kill us. I've
heard of such things. They come to the door at night and ring the
doorbell and then they shoot you through the door when you open it.
Don't you dare