“That isn’t all,” continued Paul. “The next day a robbery occurred at Professor Link’s and all that was taken was a single book out of the library. And what’s more, the same white card was left.”
“But the point of the story is,” intervened Ken, “we thought all along that you were the guilty person and that is how Jack began to follow you.”
“I!” cried the agent, aghast. “How do I come in on this?”
“Well, sir,” spoke up Jack, “it was really all my fault. After talking the thing over, we came to the conclusion that only a,—er,—a maniac sort of person would do anything like that.”
“And you took me for a maniac?” cried the agent, bursting out laughing. “That’s a good one.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Jack.
“No, I agree with you,” said Mr. Wilson. “I don’t think it’s quite the thing to be taken for a maniac. But go on.”
“Well, sir,” continued Jack, “I began to follow you. And the first night I followed you out to Waters Street, to the exact spot where the fire occurred, and ...”
“But you must be wrong,” cried Mr. Wilson, “because I don’t even know where Waters Street is.”
“You don’t know?” demanded Jack leaping out of his seat.