"I have done it!" answered Kinney. "It's good as done. I have notified the chief of police at New Bedford," he declared proudly, "to meet me at the wharf. I used the wireless. Here is my message."
From his pocket he produced a paper and, with great importance, read aloud: "Meet me at wharf on arrival steamer Patience. Two well-known criminals on board escaping New York police. Will personally lay charges against them.—Forbes Kinney."
As soon as I could recover from my surprise, I made violent protest. I pointed out to Kinney that his conduct was outrageous, that in making such serious charges, on such evidence, he would lay himself open to punishment.
He was not in the least dismayed.
"I take it then," he said importantly, "that you do not wish to appear against them?"
"I don't wish to appear in it at all!" I cried. "You've no right to annoy that young lady. You must wire the police you are mistaken."
"I have no desire to arrest the woman," said Kinney stiffly. "In my message I did not mention her. If you want an adventure of your own, you might help her to escape while I arrest her accomplices."
"I object," I cried, "to your applying the word 'accomplice' to that young lady. And suppose they are criminals," I demanded, "how will arresting them help you?"
Kinney's eyes flashed with excitement.
"Think of the newspapers," he cried; "they'll be full of it!" Already in imagination he saw the headlines. "'A Clever Haul!'" he quoted. "'Noted band of crooks elude New York police, but are captured by Forbes Kinney.'" He sighed contentedly. "And they'll probably print my picture, too," he added.