“Next door. I’ll be in in the morning. So long!” And he was gone.
I stowed away the two diverse weapons which the Chief had sent me, in my pockets where I could lay my hands on them. Then I went to bed. And I only remember my head hitting the pillow, for I was dog-tired. Besides, I was a good deal relieved to have reënforcements present and on the way. I had already realized, in a vague way, that the thing I was up against must be pretty huge and pretty cleverly organized. It was no sort of a proposition for one man to tackle.
Pride woke me the next morning. He had a paper with him, and he sat commenting drolly on the news of the day, while I bathed and ordered my breakfast. My face and hands were pretty sore that morning and I was not very good-tempered, but Pride did not seem to mind that. And presently my own temper improved.
I interrupted his soliloquy finally. “Look here, can’t we get hold of Captain Peters or somebody and have this charge against me quashed?” I demanded. “How can I get out and do anything in these duds and with the police looking for me?”
He shook his head. “Can’t be done, Clayton. You see, if we exercise pressure and have you cleared, the police force are bound to know about it. We know that some of the officers at least are hand in glove with this gang, though we don’t know which ones. And then they’d know at once—the gang, I mean—that you were either part of the Secret Service or under its protection.
“Then you’d be a worse marked man than you are now. You couldn’t do a thing then. For we know that they have organized an intelligence service that’s damned near as good as our own. They know every move we make almost as soon as we make it. We’ve had ample proof of that, though they don’t know the details of course. The Chief has his suspicions as to the leak in the Department and I don’t believe it will last much longer. But until it stops, clearing you through the Secret Service would be just about the same as signing your death-warrant, unless you went right away and gave the case up entirely, and we don’t want you to do that.”
“All right,” I answered, making a wry face. “I’ll be hunter and hunted at the same time for a while longer then.”
There was a little pause. “By the way, Clayton, have you called up your man this morning?”
“No, by Jove, I haven’t. Why?”
“Well, this is a so-called afternoon paper, although it’s only about eleven o’clock now. But I’m surprised they haven’t any news in it of the return of the girl you rescued.”