Major Parker jabbed his pipe stem at the copper disc.
"That," he said, "is the only identification I can produce until Colonel Welsh arrives at midnight. That isn't far off, of course, but you two ran into some trouble tonight. Bad trouble, I'd say, and—Well, I'm supposed to be in charge down here, which automatically makes me responsible for your safety. I fell down on the job, it seems. In other words, I'd like all the details so that I can start the wheels turning to round up this mysterious trouble-maker."
Dawson smiled, gave a little twist of his head, and gestured with one hand.
"That's just the trouble, sir," he said pleasantly. "There aren't any details, except the unpleasant ones that we've already told you. We were heading back here when we were suddenly jumped and knocked cold. Whoever did the job tore our uniforms to ribbons searching us."
"And what do you suppose he was searching for?" Major Parker asked shrewdly.
"I don't know, sir," Dawson said quietly, and looked straight at him. "Whatever it was, he didn't find it, because neither of us lost a single thing."
"That's quite right, sir," Freddy Farmer spoke up. "I just had a thought, though. Perhaps robbery was the main idea, but something or somebody scared the beggar off."
Major Parker made a face as though he suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth, and sighed sadly.
"Look, Farmer, I'm all of thirty-three!" he said sarcastically, "I've been around a little. Don't give me that kind of an explanation. It's silly. Whoever it was had time to tear your uniforms to shreds, but no time to grab your money. That is, if it was robbery."
"Well, it was just a thought, sir," Freddy replied with a weak grin.