The Man of the Hour
Soon we heard the tones of a bell from far away—one, two, three—then a pause, then a few quick strokes, followed by a low, single deep note. Hallen answered our looks of astonishment.
"That's the old bell of headquarters. The Mayor promised to ring it, day or night, when the mystery was solved, and Dowd has carried the news."
Then again came the deep tones in quicker rhythm, and we knew it was all the old bell could do in the way of joy.
We scarce had time to congratulate Oakes on the splendid termination of his work before Hallen was away with his men, taking Maloney to town by a roundabout way.
Then came the crowd to besiege the Mansion and to call for Oakes, and for Hallen; in fact, for us all. The growling and discontent had vanished; the past uneasiness was gone. Oakes and Hallen were now the heroes of Mona. Oakes spoke a few words of thanks to the crowd and tried to dispose of it by saying that Hallen had returned to town with the prisoner; but it lingered long before the Mansion, discussing the successful termination of Mona's woes.
Now that a master had unravelled the mystery, details were not difficult to supply. Many recalled, suddenly, that they had always thought Maloney "queer," though they had never considered as significant the points that might have been vital. Such is always the case with untrained observers.
We made our farewells that night, for we were to return to New York next day; but Quintus kept the hour of our going private, for, as he said to us, he had had too much of the kindness of Mona already, and there were whispers of an ovation or something of that sort reserved for our departure.
"You know, Stone," Oakes said to me, "we really don't deserve all this good feeling; these people will never stop. I am going to slip out quietly tomorrow, and you and Dr. Moore can come later."
"Nonsense," said I, "stay and let them show their appreciation of what you have done. Why, old man, you have changed the course of events in Mona—you cannot help being in their minds."