"Well," said Bob, "he was a man about five feet seven inches tall; he had dark hair and a close-cut black mustache. I should think he would weigh possibly about a hundred and fifty pounds; maybe not quite so much. He had on a soft brown hat and a dark suit of clothes. I can't remember anything more about him." "That's a plenty," exclaimed the sergeant. He had been jotting down the description of the detective as Bob spoke. "He was a grouchy fellow all right," exclaimed Hugh. "He chased us away from there as though he was jealous of us and didn't want us around." "I daresay he didn't want yez," said Riley. "What's his name?" asked Bob. "I don't know," replied the sergeant. "Come on, Riley," laughed Mr. Cook, "you can't tell me that. Why I thought you knew every one in High Ridge to say nothing of your own force. You don't mean to tell me you don't know a detective that wears the same badge you do?" "Yes, sir, I do," said Riley soberly. "And I'll tell yez why. That man these boys met this morning is no detective at all." CHAPTER XIV AN EXPEDITION Mr. Cook and the two boys were so completely taken aback by the sergeant's statement that for a moment all they could do was stare at one another in amazement. Bob was the first to regain his voice. "What do you mean, Sergeant?" he demanded. "Just what I say." "That man was not a detective?" stammered Bob. "He is not a member of the High Ridge force?" "There is no man answering to that description here." "Then he was a fake." "Exactly." "Well," exclaimed Hugh, Bob, and Mr. Cook in one breath. They could say no more. "He was a fake," repeated Sergeant Riley emphatically. "There is no doubt of it." The boys were too surprised for words. What kind of a business was this they were becoming involved in anyway? The further they went the more confused they became. If you could not trust a man with a regulation police badge, whom could you trust? "It seems incredible," said Mr. Cook. "We are at war with Germany, aren't we?" asked Sergeant Riley calmly. "We are," Mr. Cook agreed. "Well, then," said the sergeant, "that explains it. They want to do us all the harm they can and as they can't bring soldiers over here, thanks to the English fleet, they've got to strike at us with plots and bombs and such things. They will stop at nothing." "Are there many to guard against in High Ridge?" asked Mr. Cook. "You know I am interested because my factory is making ammunition for the Government." "There are several," the sergeant admitted. "Can you tell me who they are?" "I cannot. 'Twould be against my orders. Yez might feel better to know that we are watching them pretty carefully though." "I hope so," said Mr. Cook fervently. "Have yez had lunch?" asked the sergeant suddenly. "No," replied Mr. Cook. "Not yet." "Well, suppose yez go home and get it. I may telephone yez a little later to go out to that house with some of our men."