“What day is this?”
“Monday.”
He thought for a moment. “Since Saturday morning,” he replied.
“Do you know if the gang is coming back for you?” Ken asked.
The agent shrugged his shoulders. “I really don’t know. But I imagine that they were going to let me rot there until doomsday.” He again let his eyes roam from one face to another. “I was in luck to have you boys find me. Once more, I thank you. You saved my life and I hope that someday I shall be able to repay the debt.”
Wallace leaned over and whispered something to Paul who nodded. For several seconds the boys waited for the man to speak, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. Wallace whispered, “Mr. Woods, did you know that they are scheduled to make a shipment one of these days?”
Though the question had been in a low whisper, the agent had caught every syllable; at the word “shipment” he winced, but so imperceptibly that only three of the boys had noticed it. He smiled wanly. He confessed. “I am a government agent. It appears that you boys have information—valuable information—which I desire.” He paused and stroked his chin. “It’s only fair then, I guess, that I tell you how I came to be chained to that chair in the farm house—a most inconvenient situation.” And he laughed in his throat. “I have been on this case for several months. I suppose you know that we are dealing with a gang of arms smugglers?” He put the statement in the form of a question and he noticed that several of the boys nodded, which was the clue he wanted.
“Well,” he continued, speaking low, almost in a whisper, “There really isn’t much to tell. I happened to come upon their hangout—an apartment in the city. Keeping a steady watch for several days, I learned their movements. One night, I watched them leave their apartment one by one and I decided to go up and investigate. I got in all right, but two of their comrades whom I had never seen leave or enter the building, were there to greet me. After that, things happened so fast I still find it difficult to recall all the details. At any rate, the next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor of a car traveling at a good rate of speed. I made believe that I was still unconscious and listened to their talk, but they said nothing to give away their secrets. Eventually they brought me to this farm house and chained me to the chair. The rest you know already.”
The boys stared at him in astonishment and silence prevailed for a short while. Finally he said, “Now it’s your turn to tell me all you know. I’m under the impression that you boys have a great deal of valuable information.”
The fellows looked at one another and kept quiet. They left it to Paul to do all the talking and tell as little or as much as he felt would be advisable. Paul, however, saw no reason for withholding any details of the information and he told all. As he progressed in his narrative, Tom Woods gasped with surprise several times. He listened attentively, wrinkling his brow and his jaw set as he did so. When the story was at last completely told, he confessed his amazement. For a short while he kept perfectly silent and concentrating on some plan he had in mind. He asked, “What time is it now?”