tty well informed as to all crooks who come here," was the
reply.

"What are you going to do about delivering the cablegram?" Ned asked,
ignoring the insult.

"Wait until morning and deliver it to the American consul."

"In America," Ned said, with a provoking smile, "we elect men of your
slant of mind to the Ananias club."

"You'll see," was the reply. "In the meantime, you are in custody."

Where was Jimmie? Had he escaped from the building, or was he detained
in the room he had surreptitiously entered? If he had indeed escaped,
would he have the good sense to hasten to the camp instead of trying to
assist his chum single-handed?

Ned asked himself these questions, but could find no answer. He saw
that the detective was not inclined, not yet desperate enough, to march
him off to prison, however, and took courage from the fact. If he could
secure a short delay all might yet be well.

Directly the assistant manager entered the room, frowning and red of
face. Ned saw that something, perhaps something of importance to
himself, was in progress on the outside.

"The American consul is out there," he exclaimed, storming about the
little room.

"That's fine!" cried Ned. "I presume I can see him?"

The detective glared at the boy and shook his head.

"No, you can't," he declared. "You'll stay here."

"And in the meantime you'll tell him that I have gone away?"

"We'll tell him what we choose."

Ned made a quick dash for the door, tipped the assistant manager over a
broken-backed chair which stood in the way, and passed into the outer
office. The detective grabbed at him as he sped past, but the boy
eluded the ham-like hands which were thrust forward.

There were three persons in the office, when Ned bolted into it. These
were the operator, the American consul, and Hans! The German grinned in
an apologetic way as Ned hastily greeted him.

The American consul was a pleasant-faced gentleman of middle age. He
was dressed in rather sporty clothes, and there was just a hint of a
swagger of importance in his walk and manner as he extended his hand to
Ned. Dressler-Archibald Hewitt Dressler, to be exact--was a pretty fair
sample of the keen, open-hearted corn-belt politician rewarded with a
foreign appointment for rounding up the right crowd at the right time.

Ned was glad to see that the consul recognized him as the lad in whose
interest he had been pulled out of bed. He took the official's
outstretc