“Why, catch these men,” said Jimmie, “an’ you’ve got ’em.”
“Got these men, yes, but the chances are that even they do not know the men who are at the head of the conspiracy.”
“Some one is puttin’ money into it, anyway,” the boy suggested.
“Yes, and we don’t even know the interests which are doing it,” said Ned.
Ned now busied himself about the chamber, having closed the door so that the light of his matches would not show. There was, of course, danger that the watcher might descend the stairs and discover the closed door, but there was also the chance that he might attribute the changed situation to accident.
Presently Ned came upon a battered old writing desk standing on the head of a large barrel. The slanting top was locked down, but the boy soon had it open. Its contents consisted of two rolls of drawing paper.
Ned took them out, stirred the fire to a sudden glow, and bent over the figures and lines on the sheets. His face grew thoughtful as he looked.
“What is it?” Jimmie asked.
Ned held out the rolls.
“This one,” he said, “is a drawing of the Gatun dam, and this other is a crude sketch of the basement of the Daily Planet building in New York.”