“Two more?” the officer questioned curtly.
“No, sir; only one,” returned Dick. “This is the lad who brought us warning of the plot He’s just caught the fellow, here, who he says is leader of the whole gang.”
Major Whitcomb’s face changed abruptly. The gray eyes softened a bit, and under the crisp mustache his lips laxed something of their sternness.
“You’re just the one I want to see, then,” he said in a friendly voice. “You look done up, too. Bring a chair and sit down here. Sergeant, take this man in charge and don’t let him out of your sight. Now,” he added when Steve had brought over a chair, and dropped down in it, “tell me all about it. Who are you? and how did you get mixed up in this business?”
Steve obeyed, telling his story as briefly and as clearly as he could. The officer listened intently, making an occasional note and asking many questions. When Haddon had finished, the man bent forward and clapped him on the shoulder.
“That was splendidly done, and I congratulate you,” he said warmly. “You’ve rendered a great service to the country. I needn’t tell you what an enormous amount of damage and delay would have resulted if the fire had gotten a start; you seem to have realized that perfectly. You’re quite certain of your identification of the man you saw in Washington?”
“Quite, sir. I’d be willing to swear to it.”
“You may have to later when the secret service men take hold,” said Major Whitcomb. “It’s a fine bag,” he added grimly, his glance sweeping the further end of the room where several sullen-faced men stood guarded by half a dozen soldiers and two lay helpless on mattresses with doctors bending over them. “We’ve got all six, thanks to you. Well, you’ll be wanting to get back to your friends; they’ll be anxious about you. I’ll send you over in my car at once.”
He called the sergeant and gave a crisp order. Then, with a cordial word or two of farewell, he dismissed the boy and Steve left the building. Five minutes later he was leaning back in the officer’s car speeding toward Shelbourne.
Now that there was nothing more for him to do, the inevitable reaction had come, and he could scarcely hold his head up. Every muscle ached; the cut in his thigh and that other lesser one across his face, burned and stung. With head back and eyes half closed, he listened vaguely to the remarks of the soldier at the wheel, but the mere answering of the man’s occasional question seemed like the most tremendous effort.