"I'll give you my opinion in a few minutes," burst out Dunstan, who was acting in a manner totally unlike his usually calm self. "Quick, Don—your light! Let me see the name on this case—quick, I say!"
And as the illumination played across the one he indicated the art student rose to his feet and waved his hand in the air, at the same time uttering a loud hurrah, which made wild echoes ring and reverberate throughout the room.
"Fellows, in my opinion the mystery is solved!" he exclaimed. "The name I have just seen is Andrea Mantegna, a most celebrated artist born in Padua, Italy, in fourteen thirty-one. His works are priceless. By Jove, fellows, I honestly believe the tale we have to tell is going to create even more excitement than we dreamed. Ha, ha! I can almost see our pictures in the papers. Monsieur le torch-bearer, I believe your light has been the means of lighting our way to fame."
"I—I can scarcely believe all this is real!" cried Don.
Almost feverishly, the three examined case after case, and these names, one by one, fell from Dunstan Farrington's lips:
"Hobbema, Hans Holbein, Franz Hals, Velasquez, Ribera."
And with each word the art student's voice became louder—his excitement greater.
"A most remarkable and unexpected sequel to the great event!" he cried. "Boys, there is a finis to the story, after all—and what a grand, dramatic one! I wonder—I wonder what 'Peewee' will have to say!"
Seating themselves on convenient boxes, the ambulanciers, full of strange, pent-up emotions, continued to converse in eager, animated tones. A remarkable change had come over the feelings of every one. Now, instead of being disturbed and distressed, they were happy—almost exultant.
Suddenly Don Hale leaped to his feet and exclaimed: