"Are you sick?" asked Heinrich anxiously. "You look pale." "I'm not sick," said Bob. "I guess I'm crazy," and he held his head in both hands, staring blankly at the floor. Heinrich did not know what to make of the strange behavior of his employer's son. He stared at him curiously, and it was plain to see that he was telling the truth in all he said. "What you mean the car iss stolen?" he inquired finally. "Nothing," said Bob blankly. "It's too much for me." "I go to a party last night," said Heinrich. "I come home late and the door here iss open. Here iss the car too. Why you think it stolen?" "I don't know," said Bob. "I guess I must have dreamt it." "You are sick," exclaimed Heinrich. "You had better go back and go to bed. If you wish I go with you to the house." "No," said Bob. "I'm all right." He rose to his feet dazedly, looked in bewilderment at the car again and started out. "I have a loss," said Heinrich, convinced that Bob was probably all right. "What's that?" demanded Bob, turning around. "Burglars," said Heinrich. "Where? In the garage here?" "Yes. Last night," and Heinrich brushed a tear from his eye. "You did?" exclaimed Bob. "They didn't steal all that money you had yesterday, did they?" "No," said Heinrich sorrowfully. "I almost wish they had. They steal Percy." "Percy," cried Bob, greatly relieved. "Why should any one steal him?" "I do not know. I come down this morning and I look in the tub to say good-morning to Percy. The tub iss here, but Percy iss gone." "There are some queer things going on around here, Heinie," said Bob. "I like to catch the man what steal him," said Heinrich fiercely. "I'd like to catch lots of people," said Bob. "Maybe he fell out of the tub." "He could not do that," exclaimed Heinrich. "The sides iss too high." "Well, it's certainly strange." Bob went out of the garage and started slowly back toward the house. Heinrich, sorrowing over the loss of his alligator, with a sigh took up the sponge and hose again and fell to washing the car once more. Bob returned to his room, washed his face and hands, something he had neglected to do before, and went downstairs again. He glanced at the morning newspaper, full of war news and preparations for war; one column told of the arrest of many Germans all over the country, men who were suspected of caring more for the Fatherland than they did for the United States. There was no mention of the bomb episode on the railroad bridge the night before, however. Bob knew that the authorities would not permit the publication of any such items if they could prevent it so he was not surprised. Presently the rest of the family appeared and they went in to breakfast. Mr. Cook's mail was lying on the table by his plate; it was his custom every morning to glance it over while he was eating. While Mrs. Cook talked to Bob about Harold, her husband looked through his letters. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of surprise. "Here's a queer thing," he said.