Mr. Lawrence suddenly arose. The lieutenant got up just as quickly, and his hand flew instinctively to his belt, where it reposed lightly on the handle of his revolver.
Mr. Lawrence laughed.
“You will have no need for your weapon, lieutenant,” he said, smiling. “I am not at all the dangerous man I may seem to you; and it may surprise you to learn that Lawrence is not my real name.”
“That does not surprise me in the least, sir—in fact, I had already set it down as an alias.”
“But what if I were to tell you that I am Stanwood Gray?”
“I would say to you, ‘Prove it’.”
“That, perhaps, can be done easier than you imagine. You were given a secret code by which you might determine at any time the true identity of any man you suspected of being the secret service man. You might with profit, try that code on me.”
The lieutenant seemed dazed. Could it be possible that Lawrence, the smuggler, was indeed none other than the famous Stanwood Gray? He would try the code and see.
Drawing himself erect, the lieutenant saluted three times in rapid succession. In response Mr. Lawrence saluted twice.
“Can you direct me to the gate?” inquired the lieutenant.