"Varrhus is dead and the black flyer is smashed," said Davis cheerfully, and incontinently fainted.
Teddy made a hasty report to the commandant of the forts and rushed to New York. The second cold bomb had exploded that morning and the city was panic-stricken, but as his taxicab sped uptown the extras began to appear announcing the removal of the menace to the world. The frightened crowds changed to happy, cheering ones. If Teddy's identity had been suspected as he passed swiftly through the streets, he would never have gotten through. He would have been dragged from the motor car to be cheered and recheered. As it was, he made his way quickly to Evelyn's home.
He sprang up the steps and burst open the door, not waiting for the servant to open it. As he rushed into the hall, Evelyn came into it through an open door. She saw him, and her face was suffused with joy.
"You're safe!" she cried joyfully, and burst into happy tears.
Teddy took her quite naturally into his arms and held her there a moment. She sobbed quietly on his shoulder for a second, clinging to him, then pushed him away and stared at him while a hot flush overspread her face.
"Oh!" she exclaimed in a rush of shame. "I—I——" She turned and ran away. Teddy caught her.
"What's the matter?" he demanded. Her cheeks were still crimson.
"I—I kissed you," she said desperately, "and you—you hadn't said——"
Teddy laughed happily. "I hadn't said I loved you? Well, if that's all that's bothering you, just listen." And Teddy said it several times.
Davis was up and about in less than a week. His wound had been of little importance, and with a crutch which he took pride in using with dexterity he was able to move around almost as well as ever. He came over to tea with Evelyn one afternoon. Teddy was there, too, of course. Davis was boyishly showing off how well he could move about Teddy watched him critically.