s suspicions--a bundle of letters, all written in German script. He
did not stop to read the letters, but on the chance that they might
contain something that would prove valuable or important, he slipped
them into his pocket.

As yet, however, he had made no real discovery. The letters might
prove a great deal; for the moment he was obliged to leave them unread,
since his time might prove to be very short. Down he went, light out,
pausing in the big living-room to listen for some sound from the
watcher outside. There was none.

Now he lifted the trap door, and found, as he had been sure he would, a
ladder leading to the cellar below. He hesitated for a moment now.
There seemed to be no safe way of propping up the trap door. To
descend, closing it after him, meant that he would be shut into the
cellar, where he could not hear the warning signal from Arthur, should
it be sounded. But his hesitation lasted only a minute.

"It's a chance, but I've got to take it," he said to himself. "After
all, I haven't really found anything anywhere else. The cellar's the
last place to look--and the most likely, too."

One thing was a relief; when he was safely down he could turn on his
light, unafraid. From the cellar, without a window, with no means of
egress save that by which he had entered it, there was no danger that a
stray beam of light would betray his presence to the lawful dwellers in
this cottage, should they chance to return while he was there. And
what he saw in the light when he switched it on was ample reward for
his daring in braving the dangers of the place.

The place was an arsenal! Arranged against one wall were the parts of
three powerful guns, all ready to be assembled. And all about, neatly
stacked, were shells. He looked at them, pointing his light at them,
to make sure. They bore the stamp of the Krupp works at Essen in
Germany, the world-famous works whence the greater part of German
munitions of war come.

Here was a discovery indeed! The Germans were ready to attack Liege.
Of that there could no longer be even the shadow of a doubt. Not only
had they prepared a place for the reception of guns; they had even
smuggled the guns themselves over the border. It was, as he could see,
not a matter of really great difficulty. The border was not far
distant; the guards, on the Belgian side at least, had had no great
reason in the past year or so to be especially vigilant. But Paul was
horrif