"You'll see," was the reply. "In the meantime, you are in custody."
Where was Jimmie? Had he escaped from the building, or was he detained in the room he had surreptitiously entered? If he had indeed escaped, would he have the good sense to hasten to the camp instead of trying to assist his chum single-handed?
Ned asked himself these questions, but could find no answer. He saw that the detective was not inclined, not yet desperate enough, to march him off to prison, however, and took courage from the fact. If he could secure a short delay all might yet be well.
Directly the assistant manager entered the room, frowning and red of face. Ned saw that something, perhaps something of importance to himself, was in progress on the outside.
"The American consul is out there," he exclaimed, storming about the little room.
"That's fine!" cried Ned. "I presume I can see him?"
The detective glared at the boy and shook his head.
"No, you can't," he declared. "You'll stay here."
"And in the meantime you'll tell him that I have gone away?"
"We'll tell him what we choose."