"And now," said the Chief, "I want to tell you boys and your good leader here how much you have done for me and your country. I didn't have faith in your accomplishing much, but I thought that you might be able to pick up wireless messages, if any were abroad, and so I agreed to take you. You see we were almost desperate over the situation. We knew what was going on, but we were so terribly short handed that we could not spare men to run the spies down. I think that we shall have no more trouble. The system is broken up. If we do have trouble, I'm going to send for you boys at once. Meantime, you can now go back home, knowing that few boys have done as much for America and Freedom as you. I am more grateful to you than I can tell you."
The little wireless patrol passed out into the night, its labors ended. Now that the excitement was past, the boys realized how tired and sleepy they were. As they crossed the Bay to their temporary home on Staten Island, they had their last view of the harbor. Now it was almost silent. Only a few boats were ploughing through its waters. The great office-buildings were dark. The fiery lights of the city were extinguished. But bright above the Bay flamed the torch of Liberty. There, in that flickering light, was symbolized the thing that millions of men were giving their lives to protect—the greatest heritage of the ages. And as the boys from Central City looked at the symbolic illumination, their hearts beat exultantly and their eyes grew dim with joy at the thought that they, too, had been able, through months of self-denial and rigid self-discipline, to prepare themselves for the task that was now so happily ended.