“They can’t see it, at least not enough to understand it. General Wood turned us back this afternoon as a precaution, but it wasn’t necessary. You might have circled over those trenches for hours and I don’t believe you would have known what’s going on there. Besides, the work will be finished and everything hidden in a couple of days.” I spurred my imagination, searching for agencies of destruction, and mentioned hidden mines, powerful electric currents, deadly gases, but Astor shook his head. “It’s worse than that, much worse. And it isn’t one of those fantastic things from Mars that H. G. Wells would put in a novel. This will work. It’s a practical, businesslike way of destroying an army.” “What? An entire army?” “Yes. There’s an area on this side of the Susquehanna about five miles square that is ready for the Germans--plenty of room for a hundred thousand of them--and, believe me, not one man in ten will get out of that area alive.” I stared incredulously as my friend went on with increasing positiveness: “I know what I’m saying. I’ll tell you how I know it in a minute. This thing has never been done before in the whole history of war and it will never be done again, but it’s going to be done now.” “Why will it never be done again?” “Because the conditions will never be right again. Armies will be suspicious after one has been wiped out, but the first time it’s possible.” “How can you be sure von Hindenburg’s army will cross the Susquehanna at the exact place where you want it to cross?” “They will cross at the clearly indicated place for crossing, won’t they? That’s where we have set our trap, five miles wide, on the direct line between Philadelphia and Baltimore. They can’t cross lower down because the river swells into Chesapeake Bay, and if they cross higher up they simply go out of their way. Why should they? They’re not afraid to meet Leonard Wood’s little army, are they? They’ll come straight across the river and then--good-night.” This was as near as I could get to an understanding of the mystery. Astor would tell me no more, although he knew I would die rather than betray the secret. “You might talk in your sleep,” he laughed. “I wish I didn’t know the thing myself. It’s like going around with a million dollars in your pocket.” Then he added earnestly: “There are a lot of American cranks and members of Bryan’s peace party who wouldn’t stand for this if they knew it.” “You mean they would tell the Germans?” “They would tell everybody. They’d call it barbarous, wicked. Perhaps it is, but--we’re fighting for our lives, aren’t we? For our country?” “Sure we are,” I agreed. Later on Mr. Astor told me how he had come into possession of this extraordinary military knowledge. He was one of the Committee of Twenty-one.