He had not believed these reports at the time. They had seemed too incredible. He had considered them figments of imaginations that had been fired by the fears and excitements of war. No, such things were too fantastic for sane, sensible Americans to believe. It was impossible that our country would be betrayed by those whom she had welcomed so heartily to her shores.
But here in this desert spot, for an unknown purpose, stood tangible evidence that these reports were true. They were not idle fancies. And, so, it must likewise be true that America did harbor base creatures who would sell their adopted country’s honor for gold and silver, men who sought to injure her, and lower her prestige in the eyes of the world. Very well, it would be America’s duty henceforth to ferret out these creatures. It would be her duty to strip them of the possessions and privileges that a generous country had showered on them with a profuse hand.
Again and again these reflections kept running through O’Hara’s mind, as he explored every nook and cranny of the curious subterranean hiding-place. He wondered what criminal plan had dictated the construction of this great gun emplacement. Where did Brown intend to get the enormous gun that such a base would accommodate? These questions were too deep for solution. Perhaps the future would supply an answer.
O’Hara looked at his watch and found it had been about twenty minutes since he saw the dust of the approaching automobile. He figured that the officers were just now arriving at the place, but of course no sound could penetrate to his dark hiding place. Wishing to save the oil, he turned out his lamp and sat down on the hard sand of the floor. He placed his shoulder against the back of the safe so that he would be facing the one ray of light which struggled in from the hole above, and settled down to wait.
Thus it happened that he was entirely invisible when the opening in the wall suddenly revolved again. Thinking merely to remain quiet until Tom Whalen called him, O’Hara made no move. He heard the sound of two voices, one undoubtedly that of Jo the Jap, the other with an Irish accent.
“Sure,” the latter was saying, “I’m after helping ye turn the trick. Begore, I hate the English, but niver a cint have I seen yit, and the money will be welcome,” and there squeezed through the opening a small, red-headed, freckled-face Irishman, wearing a detective’s star.
“I’ve saved ye from suspicion time and agin,” he grumbled, “and now I come with the crowd to-day fer pay, and shure, I’ll be after gettin’ of it.”
The Japanese had been carefully covering the tank, and now he turned softly toward the safe. The combination came quickly and deftly to his fingers, and O’Hara could hear the safe swing back. Then from the comments and remarks of the Irishman, he judged that the latter was being given a portion of his ill-gotten gain.
“All right,” he now said in a pronounced brogue to the quiet servant, who as yet had spoken no word; “I’ll be after hurryin’.” He then added: “Raise the door quick; sure and I can’t be missed.” Then as he evidently tucked away his money in his pockets, he added a sentence which made O’Hara’s breath come quick: “It’s a hen party we be after havin’; there’s two gurrls joined the chase and a lad along with ’em. It’s shrewd and wide-awake they be, I’m tellin’ ye!”
While he was speaking, the Jap crowded quietly to the trap door of the tank and cautiously glanced around. “All right,” he whispered, and the Irishman extinguished his light and followed him.