And then there was a scene of handshaking and smiling welcome such as any hero might be proud to receive.
“Wait a minute,” Manning said, at last, “that day, I was hunting a paper, you know. If it was sent off, there will yet be trouble from it. Has it been found, do you know, Mr. Wise?”
“No; what sort of a paper?”
“One of the stolen telegrams. It was concealed, I had reason to think, somewhere in Gately’s desk——”
“Do you know that?”
“I think so—wait,—I had just thought I knew where to look for it, when Gately said something that made me telephone for assistance in his arrest. I was waiting for an answer to my call——”
“When you drew the snow crystal!” Zizi cried.
“Yes,” he smiled. “And then, I saw something that hinted a possible hiding-place—ah, here it is!”
He stepped to the desk and picked up the heavy, ornate gold penholder. He fussed with it a moment, and then, unscrewing it in the middle, showed that it was a cleverly constructed place to hide a tiny roll of thin paper.
There was such a roll in it, and pulling it out, Manning grinned with glee. “All right,” he cried, joyfully; “this is the paper, a Government secret! See, you read it by that carriage-call check, and it’s safe now!”