Secret Room

The strange Doctor Weir. Good evening. Come in, won't you? What's the matter? You seem a bit nervous. Perhaps the cemetery outside this house is upset you. But there are things far worse than cemeteries. For instance, knowing that you are cut off from the world and the death awaits you inevitably.

is in the story I want to tell you tonight. The story I call the secret room. My story begins late one night in a lonely section of the Hudson Valley. A few yards away from the huge old Baxter Mansion, two men hide behind a large elm tree, studying the mansion closely.

By the half-light of the moon, initials can be seen on the backs of their blouses. The initials PW, standing for prisoner of war. Kurt, why are you wasting time watching that house? And a minute now they discover back at the poison cap that we killed that guard and escaped.

I'm not wasting my time. See that little gray haired man there in the house, talking to the big fat man? Yeah, sure, what about him? He's gonna supply us with money and clothes and food.

Ah, what about secret agents? No, it's my father. Your father? He brought me into this country as a child. He's caretaker the house for 15 years I lived in the house. If I was old enough to run away and join the army to third rights.

Oh, 15 years in America, that's why you speak such perfect English. Yes. Carl, is your father? He's a Nazi. No. The old man's one of those stupid fools who believes in democracy. And the other man in there, who's he?