When the sentinel on his corridor was changed at midnight the blond, blue-eyed boy would be his friend and explain.
When he found the rope ladder concealed on the roof it was raining. He fastened it carefully in the shadow of an offset in the outer wall and waited for the appearance of the guard. As he passed the gas lamp post and the flickering light fell on his face he studied it with care. He was stupid and allowed the rain to dash straight into his fat face. It should be easy to reach the shadows by a quick leap when he turned against the rain and reached the length of his beat.
He calculated to a second the time required to make the descent, threw himself swiftly to the end of his rope and dropped to the pavement.
In his eagerness to strike the ground on the run, his foot slipped and he fell. The guard heard and ran back, blinking his stupid eyes through the rain. He found a young sport who had lost his way in the storm.
"I shay, partner," the fallen drunk blubbered. "What'ell's the matter here? Ain't this Joe Hall's place?"
"Not by a dam sight."
"Ah, g'long with yer, f-foolishness—man—and open the door—I'm an old customer—I ain't no secret service man—I'm all right—open her up——"
"Here, here, get up an' move on now, I can't fool with you," the guard growled good-naturedly. He lifted Ned to his feet and helped him to the end of his beat, waved him a jolly good-night, and turned to his steady tramp. The rope was still dangling next morning ten feet above his head.
The sensation that thrilled the War Department was one that made history for the Nation, as well as the individuals concerned, and for some unfortunately who were not concerned.