“The other government men thought the phony bills were being made in New York,” he said. “But I knew different. I traced a few of them up to Springfield; then I found some in Brookdale. Not many, I admit; but two or three were enough to show me that you fellows were operating strong in this vicinity.
“I had suspicions about the old farmhouse. I hung around there a bit. That’s where I nabbed that fellow you have in the box. Thought he was with you.
“I kept him in a shack for a couple of days. Then he got away. That’s why I came here to-night. I’m alone. All alone. That’s the way I work. You might have wised up if I had brought a crowd with me.
“Your old farmhouse was deserted when I came there, an hour ago. That meant one of two things — either that you skipped or were in your hangout. So I looked around the cellar a bit.
“It took me a little while to find the entrance to your tunnel. But I’m used to looking for places like that.”
Marquette looked at Harry Vincent.
“I’m going to leave you where you are, young fellow,” he remarked. “But I’ll be back later on.”
He dropped one automatic into his pocket, and brought out a flashlight in its place.
“We’re going to hold a parade,” he said, quietly. “It’s about five miles down to Brookdale, and you fellows are going to march all that distance with your hands up; and I’ll be behind with my gun.
“The first sign of monkey business — out you go. There’s ten bullets in this gat. That’s six more than I need; and I have another loaded gun in my pocket.”