“It looks like it to me. Take a squint at it yourself,” added Sam, after a pause.
He passed it to Tom, who saw, in a flash, these words:
“Too bad he knows about draft—sorry you lost track of it. Better come to Garrison at once and consult with me. Will wait for you at same hotel I always stop at.”
Tom could not comprehend for a moment, but when he saw signed to the torn telegram the name Aaron Doolittle, it all came to him in a flash.
“I believe this is the clue I need!” Tom said aloud.
CHAPTER XXII
IN GARRISON
Sam looked at his chum a moment as if wondering whether he had heard aright. Tom continued to stare at the crumpled and torn telegram.
“What’s the matter with you, Tom?” his chum asked. “What are you talking about clues for? Been reading some detective stories?”
“No, but this is a clue all right. Where did you get it?”
“Found it right here on the ground. I picked it up—” he paused to look at the open window of Captain Hawkesbury’s room. “Why, say!” Sam exclaimed, “it must have come from there!”