Thereupon, Jack proceeded to relate the story of the secret radio plant, the mysterious plane probably controlled by radio and thus able to operate in silence, and the facts as they had obtained them from Mr. Temple regarding the occupant of the old Brownell place known as the “haunted house.”
“Ha,” said Inspector Condon; “if that fellow is a liquor smuggler, the ‘haunted house’ has spirits in it, all right, all right.”
And he laughed uproariously at his own joke.
“But, now, boys,” he added, sobering; “an investigation into this matter would be somewhat outside of my province. However, I’ll place this information before the prohibition enforcement officials, who will be glad to get it, I can assure you. Let me thank you, in behalf of the government, for coming to us with your information.”
After a few more moments of conversation, during which Inspector Condon made a note of their names and addresses, the boys left.
At the door, Jack turned for a last word.
“If we can be of any help,” he said, “call on us. We have a radio plant and an airplane at our command, and, besides, are admirably situated near the scene.”
“Fretting for more adventure, are you?” asked Inspector Condon, clapping him on the shoulder. 46 “Well, that’s a kind offer, and I’ll pass it along to the proper people to handle this matter. If they need any help, you’ll hear from them shortly. I expect they won’t let any grass grow under their feet on this case.”
When once more they stood on the sidewalk, Jack’s gaze lifted to the clock in the tower of St. Paul’s. Two o’clock.
“Well, we haven’t gotten very far with our adventure,” he said, a bit dispiritedly. “I thought we would start something that would give us a bit of excitement. But, apparently, all we have done has been to let the whole business slip out of our hands.”