"But if your arm was broken and paining you, why didn't you stay with Burton, there, and let the others go by the way of Death Head, and take up the clue you had followed?"
"Why, you see," answered Danny, "we had to get to the man quickly to stop his telegraphing. I knew a short route to him."
"Exactly," said the judge, nodding, then he turned to the men about him.
"All right, gentlemen?" he asked.
There was a whispered conference of a few moments, and then, to Danny's surprise, they all turned to him.
"Daniel," said the judge, "do you know why this Court of Honor has been called into session?"
Danny's glance swept the khaki-clad figures against the wall—he looked at Mr. Gordon.
"I hope," he answered to the judge, "that you like what we did."
"Yes," said the judge, smiling this time, "yes, the Whippoorwills are quite in our good graces, and we commend the promptness and efficiency of Mr. Gordon and your leader, McKenzie. However, this court has been called together to sit in judgment on your part in last night's performance. Daniel, do you realize that you have done bravely and well?"
Danny stood for one moment, stunned by the dawning realization of what this meant. Then he looked across at his mother. Life holds for a boy no higher, happier moment than that in which he realizes he has made his mother proud of him.