“Yes; she’s in the company’s office,——” Here Jenny whispered the address to Wise.
“Good girl,” he commented. “Keep it dark. No use in telling all these people!”
He turned to my telephone, then said: “No, Brice, you do it. Call Headquarters and tell the Chief to arrest,—what’s her name, Jenny?”
“I—I didn’t say, sir.” The girl’s caution was returning.
“Say now, then,” commanded Wise. “I know, anyway. It begins with S.”
“Her first name,—yes, sir.”
“And the last name with K. You see I know! So, out with it!”
“Sadie Kent,” whispered Jenny, her nerves beginning to go to pieces at realizaton of what she had done.
“Yes, of course. Sadie Kent. Go ahead, Brice. Fix it all up,—and go to the telegraph office yourself. Meet the officers there. Scoot!”
I scooted. The strong arm of the law works swiftly when it wills to do so. Within half an hour Sadie Kent was arrested at her key in the telegraph office on charge of stealing confidential telegrams sent by officials in Washington to munition plants and steamship companies and delivering them to persons who she knew would transmit them to the German Foreign Office.