uld have all been thrown out.--Think
the other operator's all right?" he added.

"Oh, yes; he's got two brothers in military service," said the captain
conclusively.

"See, here's another finger-mark--thumb. And here's a couple more," said
the plain-clothes man, indicating several less distinguishable marks
around the port-hole.

No one paid any attention to Tom. He watched the four men as they
examined the little signs which they thought verified their conclusion
that the missing wireless operator had placed the bomb.

"You see, he knew this room wouldn't be used, probably not entered this
trip," said the Secret Service man.

"It was a lucky mistake this boy made," said the first officer, glancing
not unkindly at Tom.

"Mmmm," said the captain.

Tom did not know whether to take this for praise or not. He stood,
silent but very thoughtful. None of his four superiors took the trouble
to acknowledge his act, nor even to address him, and he had to piece
together as best he could, from their conversation, the reasons for
their long-standing suspicions of the missing operator's disloyalty.
Never in all his life had Tom felt his own insignificance as he did now.

The Secret Service man was very self-confident and very convincing. His
conclusions, in view of past suspicions, seemed natural enough, and Tom
could not help envying and admiring him from his obscure corner.

"I'll send a wireless right away," said the captain, as the four moved
toward the door.

For a few seconds Tom struggled to master his timidity. He felt just as
he had felt when he talked to Margaret Ellison and when he had faced
Roscoe Bent's father. These uniformed officials were as beings from
another world to poor Tom, and the Secret Service man seemed a marvel of
sagacity and subtle power.

As they reached the door, he spoke, his voice shaking a little, but in
the slow, almost expressionless way which was characteristic of him.

"If you'd wait a minute, I got something to say," he said.

"Yes, sir," said the first officer not unpleasantly. The captain paused
impatiently. The Secret Service man smiled a little. Indeed, there was
plenty to smile at (for the captain, too, if that dignitary would have
so condescended) for Tom's sleeves, which were ridiculously long, were
clutched in his two hands as if to keep them from running away and the
peak of his cap was almost over his ear instead of being where it
belonged.

"I heard this morning," sa