races: "Fixity of
purpose ... there is almost nothing that fixity of purpose will not
accomplish."

"No," Max said simply, after a moment's pause, "I am going to keep watch
and ward over the Durend workshops. Cost what it may I am going, by all
means in my power, to hinder the use of them for the enemy's purposes.
What influence I have--little enough I fear--with the real Belgian
workmen, I will exert to keep them from aiding Schenk. The works are
mine--I speak for my mother--and I will not hesitate to destroy them if
I find opportunity. There must be many ways in which I can make trouble,
and I am going to strain every nerve to do so. Let Schenk look out; it
is war to the knife!"

"Hurrah!" cried Dale excitedly. Then he went on in a sober tone: "But it
is risky work, Max. Schenk will very soon suspect us--he has agents and
spies everywhere, you may be sure."

"We must be as cunning as he is--more so. We must outdo him at his own
game. We--I, I should say, for you must go back to England--I am going
to disappear and emerge as a simple workman, with German sympathies of
course. Then the fight will begin."

"Yes, and I'm in it, Max," cried Dale joyously. "I wouldn't miss it for
worlds. It sounds good enough for anything. To outwit the Germans is
great, but to outwit Schenk is ten times better. Come along, let's get
to work."

"All right!" cried Max, smiling at his friend's enthusiasm. "We'll get
back at once, and, as a start, go home and fetch away some of our
things. It will have to be the last time we go there."

Quickly, and yet with caution, the two lads retraced their steps to the
town. They knew every foot of the country, and, though there were
numerous patrolling parties of Germans between them and the town, they
were able to pass them without difficulty. At the door of his house one
of the servants met Max and handed him a note.

"A young man brought it, Monsieur, an hour ago. He has come all the way
from Maastricht with it. It is from Madame, your mother, and he said it
was very important."

Rapidly Max tore away the cover and opened the missive. His senses were
perhaps preternaturally sharpened, for he felt a sense of foreboding.
After many fond messages, and repeated injunctions that he would take
care of himself and not offend the Germans, the note went on:

"And now, Max, I want to tell you something that distresses me
extremely, though I have hopes that it may be all a mistake. When I
left, bring