Meanwhile other detectives were watching the rooming house at Union Hill where Fay and Scholz lived, and they saw the two come in about 4 o'clock in the morning. Scholz had very little sleep, for there was a ship leaving next day for Liverpool. He left the house at 7 A. M. and went to the garage. Thereupon three detectives returned to the great oak tree at Grantwood. About noon Fay and his brother-in-law drove up, and unlocking the door of a rude hut in the wood, took out a bag, from which they poured a few grains of powder on the surface of a rock. Fay struck the rock with a hammer; a loud report followed, and the hammer broke in his hand. A moment later he heard a twig snap behind him. He turned, and saw a small army of detectives with drawn revolvers closing in on him. Fay protested and pleaded, and offered to bribe the detectives for his freedom, but he was locked up with Scholz. The two had stored in a warehouse several cases containing their completed bomb mechanisms; the police confiscated from their various caches five new bombs, 25 pounds of TNT, 25 sticks of dynamite, 150 pounds of chlorate of potash, two hundred bomb cylinders, 400 percussion caps, one motor-boat, one chart of New York harbor showing all its fortifications and piers, one foreign automobile, two German automatic pistols and a long knife--a considerable arsenal. Their confessions caused the arrest of Paul Daeche, who had furnished them with explosives, Dr. Kienzle, Breitung, and Engelbert Bronkhorst. Fay received a sentence of eight years in the penitentiary, but after America went to war, Atlanta became too confining for his adventurous spirit, and he escaped the prison, and is believed to have crossed the Mexican border to safety. Scholz was sentenced to four years, and Daeche to three. Kienzle, Breitung and Bronkhorst were not tried, their apparent ignorance of Fay's designs outweighing in the jury's mind their obvious German sympathies. Kienzle, upon the declaration of war of April 6, 1917, became an enemy alien, and was interned. So Lieutenant Fay never qualified in active service as a destroying agent. Yet he was profligate in his intentions. He offered two men $500,000 if they could intrigue among the shippers in order that a ship laden with copper for England might wander from the path of convoy into German hands, and he even entertained the fantastic hope, with his chart and his motor-boat and his bombs, of stealing out of the harbor to the cordon of British cruisers who hung outside the three-mile limit and attaching his bombs to their rudders, that the German merchantmen might escape into the open sea. On October 26 the _Rio Lages_ caught fire at sea; fire broke out in the hold of the _Euterpe_ on November 3; three days later there was fire aboard the _Rochambeau_ at sea; the next day an explosion occurred aboard the _Ancona_. And so the list runs on: