He stopped abruptly, for Chase suddenly opened the door and walked into the room, dragging a man with him. A hard-looking fellow, with a sullen expression and a slinking gait.
“I have found my counterfeiter!” Chase announced triumphantly to Jardin. “And this is his accomplice!”
Still holding the man by the arm, the detective swung about and pointed his finger at Sprague.
“Steven Long is the criminal the U. S. Government has been searching for for a year! Long, alias Logman, alias Sprague—” He stopped, and laughed. “To think that I saw this man in the studio of the Apex Film Corporation—even tried to help him out—and never knew who he was! The joke is on me!”
“But you’ve got him now!” cried Dot, unable to restrain her delight.
All eyes were turned upon Sprague. He was not laughing now. Rather, he was cowering, deathly pale, holding on to a chair for support. He did not even demand how Chase had discovered his secret. But Jardin asked immediately.
“It was this little instrument I picked up out of the crack,” explained the young detective, producing the tool that resembled a nut-pick. “I recognized it as an engraver’s tool. I wondered why it should be here. And then I had an inspiration to search the place. Where could a counterfeiter work better than here on this lonely island? Under the guise of a pineapple planter?”
“But is that all the proof you have, Chase?” demanded Jardin, impatiently.
“Not by any means. That was only the beginning. I wandered about the place till I found another shack, hidden almost completely by camouflage. But I got in. And caught this fellow—” he shook his captive’s arm—“in the act of engraving fifty-dollar bills!”
Deliberately, then, he reached into his pocket for two pairs of handcuffs, which he calmly proceeded to fasten upon the wrists of the two men. A tense silence lasted while he performed this operation, a silence which was suddenly broken by the hysterical wail of a girl.