a brief for the defendant or the state, Mr.
District Attorney, I am seeking the truth."

Chapter XVIII

Jimmy had not been sleeping well nights. On this night he dreamed
that he was alone in the city room of the Eagle doing the dog
watch. He was reading a history of the Civil War in which was
stressed the reconstruction period with its harrowing details, a
period under which serious dismemberment of the country was
threatened. While he was reading this, the telegraph instrument in
the telegraph room kept up its intermittent tapping.

He awoke with the tapping still in his ears, as though in
continuation of his dream. He lay still thinking of the
eccentricities of dreams in general when the tapping of which he
had been conscious in his dreams was repeated at his window. This
time it did not sound like a telegraph instrument. It seemed that
a number of pebbles had struck the upper window panes, the lower
being open. He distinctly heard some of the pebbles strike the
floor. He lay still when he was aware of a repetition of the
sound.

He got out of bed and went to the window. Standing in the graying
dawn was his youthful pilot, Harry Stoy. The youth was beckoning
earnestly for Jimmy to come down stairs. Slipping on some clothes
and a pair of soft soled moccasins Jimmy stole out of the house
being careful not to awaken any of its inmates.

Harry held his finger to his mouth as a signal for silence and led
the way down to the water front. Here he whispered excitedly:

"Say, Mr. Hale, I think I know where the kid is?"

Jimmy stared at the youth who was shivering with excitement.

"You mean Tommy, Harry?"

"Yeah, Tommy. Let's row out a little bit in the boat then start it
where your folks can't hear the motor. Come on, Mr. Hale. Are you
game?"

Jimmy grinned and tingled. His first thought was that he ought to
call Jack; he decided against it. There was the danger of
awakening Professor Brierly and Norah. He did not want to arouse
any false hopes, the kid might be mistaken. He also did not want
to lose face in the eyes of this youngster. The question of
whether he was game decided him. He stole back into the house
where he took from the drawer of the living-room table a loaded
revolver; he decided against a shotgun or rifle.

When they got out far enough to start the motor without fear of
waking up those in the house, Harry spoke. He was panting with
excitement.

"This place we're goin' to Mr. Hale is abo