"Was that your detective running off through the woods?" asked the sergeant.
"It certainly was," said Bob. "I guess he was one of the gang after all.
I suppose they left him behind to watch us."
"Then why did he let you get away?" his father replied.
"Probably he thought it would create less suspicion," said Sergeant Riley. "He got the paper away from the boys and as long as he thought he could bluff them into thinking he was a detective he thought that was sufficient. On the other hand if he had held them prisoners or anything like that there would have been a search for them and trouble started at once."
"I guess that's right," said Mr. Cook soberly. "However, I hope they catch him this time."
Suddenly a piercing scream startled them. They glanced up to see a white face at one of the windows of the house. All around, the fire roared and the smoke curled up in great clouds. Before they could see who the man was he had fallen back into the room and disappeared from view.
"I'll get him," exclaimed one of the detectives, and without further ado, he sprinted for the burning house. Paying no heed to the warning cries of his comrades he dashed up to the back door and entered, and was soon lost to sight.
"That feller Donovan is a dare-devil," exclaimed Sergeant Riley. "He'll stop at nothing. Why should he risk his life for a man that's as good as dead now?"
"He'll never come out alive," cried Mr. Cook.
"And all for a man who is plotting against the country," echoed Riley. "Here you!" he shouted to the other plain-clothes man. "Keep out of there. The High Ridge police force can't afford to lose more than one man a day." The fourth detective showed signs of wishing to follow his comrade.