After eating they went back to the telegraph office. The clerk was waiting for them, that being the usual hour for his supper.
"Here's your orders," he said, with a smile, "right from the chief himself. He seems to know who you are all right!"
Jack took the dispatch and read:
"Remain where you are until motor cars now on the way from Cumberland reach you. Our men say the cars can make good time clear to the foothills. The cipher message will arrive shortly. Be on your guard."
It was signed by the chief of the Secret Service department.
"What do you know about that?" asked Jack, passing the message over to Jimmie.
"How far is it to Cumberland?" he asked of the clerk.
"Something like eighty miles," was the reply.
"Are the roads good? Can a motor car make good time to-night."
"The river roads are fairly good. A fast car ought to get here in three hours."