FIVE minutes later, Lieutenant Raymond Branson was aroused from sleep. He was indignant for a moment, as he sat up in bed; then Marquette’s badge proved a talisman that quieted him.
Peterson was dismissed. Marquette talked to the man alone.
It was half an hour before the secret-service man had concluded his conversation with the lieutenant. As Marquette rose to leave, Branson smiled rather bitterly.
“I hadn’t figured on this,” he said. “It’s very sudden, and I can’t quite realize it. But — “
“It may mean a lot to your country,” replied Marquette.
Lieutenant Branson arose from his chair. He walked to the window, and stood with his back toward the room.
“All right,” he said. “You’ll arrange everything?”
“I shall,” replied Marquette. “Get up early as you planned; meet me, and I’ll take care of the rest. You will sail on the Colonia to-morrow morning.”
“What if this fellow fails — “
“We can worry about that later. I’m figuring that he’ll make it. You had no particular destination, did you?”