"And can you substantiate these charges? Mind you, if an innocent man suffers I shall hold you accountable, do you understand?"
"I understand, and I am willing to swear to that statement."
"Have the men been arrested?"
"They have, and are now on their way to Chicago."
"They will probably be arraigned to-morrow morning," observed the great detective.
"See that your witnesses are on hand—you may go now."
When the small man had stolen softly out, down the stair and into the street, the chief detective descended, entered a closed carriage and was driven to his home.
It was now past midnight, and all over the city printers were setting up the story of the arrest of a number of dynamiters on a Burlington train. The wires were singing it across the country, and cables were carrying to the ends of the earth the story of the disgrace and downfall of the Brotherhood.
The headquarters of the strikers were crowded with a host of anxious men, unwilling to believe that their brothers had been guilty of so dastardly a crime.
On the following morning, when the daily press had announced the arrest of the alleged dynamiters, the city was thrown into a fever of excitement, and thousands who had been in sympathy with the men now openly denounced them, and by so doing gave aid and encouragement to the company. The most conservative papers now condemned the strikers, while the editor of The Chicago Times dipped his quill still deeper into the gallstand.