For a moment Dick was too aghast to speak. The President! Truly, his investigations were leading him into deep water.
“Are you quite sure, Tom?” he asked, soberly.
“Quite, sir,” with military precision. “I remember the night perfectly, sir. While the White House is often called up at all hours, it ain’t usual for inmates of the household to ring up outside calls after midnight.”
“Had you any trouble getting your party?”
“No, sir. Central was rather slow about answering, but that was the only delay.”
“Thanks, Tom, you’ve helped General Long a lot by telling me all this. Go and see him about six to-night on your way to the White House. You will probably catch him then. Is your wife well?”
“Yes, sir, thank you. Please tell the General I will be at the hotel without fail. Good-by, sir.”
When Dick had departed, Tom walked into his kitchen with a grave face.
“I’m afraid, Betty, I talked too freely with Mr. Tillinghast.”
“Nonsense,” snapped Betty, whose temper was apt to get peppery when she worked over a hot fire. “Master Dick isn’t the sort to get us into trouble.” And that ended the discussion.