He threw back the lapel of his coat and showed a badge.
"King of England, Scotland and Wales, is it!" exclaimed the doorman with a twinkle in his eye. "An' why didn't ye say Ireland into the bargain."
"Ireland, of course," went on the little man. "I'm an officer of His Most Gracious Majesty," he added, "and I demand the assistance of the United States authorities in general and the police of Easton in particular in taking these desperate criminals into custody!"
"Hold your horses," advised the desk-sergeant. "Those boys are not liable to run away. They're to stay here over night, and if you have any charge to make against them why you'll have to come and see the judge in the morning."
"But they are sons of an anarchist! They are anarchists themselves!" exclaimed the man, "I must arrest them!"
"You're not going to arrest anybody," said the sergeant, "until you get a warrant from the judge. This isn't England."
"Then I'm going to stay with these boys the rest of the night," insisted the man. "I can't take any chances on their giving me the slip."
"This place is going to be crowded with people from the burned hotel," objected the sergeant. "There will be no room for you. Besides, how do I know these boys are anarchists?"
"Look in their valise," cried the stranger. "It is filled with bombs."
"You can't look in this satchel," exclaimed Jack, for he remembered the valise contained parts of the professor's secret machines.