“My name isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps,” continued Mr. Kearns with some sarcasm.
The Lieutenant laughed softly.
“Yes,” he replied, “the name is familiar to me. So is that of Captain Kidd, and other legendary heroes of the past. Thomas Kearns, eh? There isn’t a small boy in the country who doesn’t know the name and who hasn’t read of his exploits.”
For a moment Kearns stood silent, as if he hardly gathered the sense of the words. Then his face flushed and he found voice.
“You talk about the past,” he said, in incisive tones. “I don’t understand you. I am the Chief of the Department I have named—right now—at this present moment; and that fact, I think, you’ll not find disputed by any member of the Uniformed Force, be his rank what it may. If you have any doubt, I would suggest that you telephone to Official Headquarters in New York.”
“Telephone!” ejaculated the Lieutenant. Again he laughed amusedly.
“I said telephone,” retorted Kearns sharply. “Perhaps,” he added scornfully, “you are not equipped with such an instrument here!”
“Scarcely,” answered the Lieutenant with a sniff, casting his eye toward a handsome looking instrument at the further end of the room. “A telephone, eh? Yes, I remember some time ago seeing one displayed as a curiosity at the Eden Musee in New York. Quite an interesting antique!”
“Sir,” said Kearns sternly; “I haven’t time to bandy foolish words with you. My friend and I are tired and we wish to go home at once. I want to ask you what kind of a charge this is upon which your men have dared to arrest two reputable citizens.”
“Unless the Medical Examiner declares them irresponsible,” answered the Lieutenant sarcastically, “the two reputable citizens are likely to find this matter pretty serious before they get through with it.”