and you're sure
it's a wireless outfit," said John.

"It's impossible for me to be wrong. I could never mistake the sound of
the wireless for anything else."

"And it's there on the roof of this chateau, which belongs to us by
right of occupancy, chattering away to German forces elsewhere!" said
Carstairs in an indignant whisper.

"It's doing a lot more than chattering," said Wharton. "They wouldn't
install a wireless on the roof of a house at this time of the night,
merely for a little idle summer conversation. You saw that a prince and
generals came here, and undoubtedly they ordered it done."

"Whatever they're talking about," said Carstairs, "it's not likely
they're talking about us, so now is our chance to slip away."

"I'm not going to leave the chateau just now," said Wharton.

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I'd like to see the wireless on the roof and the man who is working
it."

John glanced at Wharton. The light was very dim, but he noticed a spark
in Wharton's eye, and he knew that something unusual was working in the
back of his head.

"I think I'd like to have a look at the roof myself," he whispered.

"If you chaps are bent on going up there," said Carstairs, "I'm bound to
go with you. But we'd better keep our automatics in our hands."

They emerged from the shadow of the wall, and reached the foot of the
stairway that led to the roof. The door at the top was open, as the
moonlight was shining down, and Wharton boldly led the way, walking on
tiptoe, his automatic in his hand. At the open door John and Carstairs
crowded up by his side, and three pairs of eyes peeped out at once.

They saw two men on the roof both with their backs turned to them. One
was the operator of the wireless, sitting on a camp stool, working the
instrument. The other, in an officer's uniform, was dictating messages.
John surmised that they were talking with a station to the eastward,
where some lofty ranges of hills ran.

But Wharton was the most deeply stirred of the three. The spark in his
eye was enlarging and glowing more brilliant, and a great resolve had
formed in his mind.

"There's nothing that we can do here," said Carstairs. "We'd better go
at once."

"We're not going," said Wharton in a fierce whisper. "I can use the
wireless, and that's just the instrument on which I wish to exercise my
skill. I've heard enough to know they're not talking in code."

"Wharton, you are mad!" said John.

"If so, I'm