At this moment the doorbell rang and a moment later Rawlins dashed into the room, his eyes bright and a happy grin on his boyish face.
“I’ll tell the world it’s great!” he exclaimed, “They got pretty near everything—booze, trucks, men, and that mysterious radio. And a truckload
of books and papers—cleaned out a regular nest. That man Murphy is a corker, Mr. Pauling. He said to tell you he’ll be over in a little while. They were just cleaning up when I left.”
Tom jumped up. “Hurrah!” he cried. “Then we were right all along! We always said that fellow was one of a bootlegger gang. Gee, Frank! They can’t laugh at radio or radio detectives now. It wins!”
“I’ll say radio wins!” cried Rawlins.
[CHAPTER XII—THE CONFESSION]
Before the conversation could be continued, the desk telephone rang and Mr. Pauling instantly answered.
“Hello!” the boys heard him say. “Hello! Good! Right away. Call Henderson. Yes, have everything ready. He’ll live perhaps? Yes, Henderson will bring Ivan. Keep a record of everything. Good-by!”
As he ceased speaking, Mr. Pauling sprang up. “It’s Doctor Hewlett,” he announced as he started for the door, “The man’s regaining consciousness. He may talk at any moment and I must rush there. If Murphy calls, send him over.”
An instant later, Mr. Pauling was hurrying to his car and the boys, Mrs. Pauling and Rawlins commenced discussing the events which had followed one another so rapidly during the past few hours.