he astonished reply. "How could
a shadow come on the glass door?"

"Because some tall man, with one shoulder a trifle lower than the
other, stood between the light in the corridor and the glass panel,"
was the reply, "and his shadow was plainly to be seen. I thought you
noticed it."

"Was that when you opened the door and looked out?"

"Yes; I opened the door and look out into the corridor and listened. I
could hear footsteps on the staircase, but they died out while I stood
there. The man was hiding in the building, for the street door was not
opened, and we did not see him on the way down. I suspect that the
watchman knew he was there."

"The watchman, Jim Scoby, is a rascal," replied Fremont. "I don't like
him. What am I to do if you leave me alone here all day?" he added,
with a sigh.

"Read, eat, sleep, and keep out of sight," was the reply. "I'll return
early in the evening and we'll leave for the South at midnight."

"I wish I could communicate with the Black Bears," said Fremont.

Nestor smiled but said nothing. In a short time breakfast was served
and Nestor went away. That was a long day for Fremont, although Aunty
Jane endeavored to help him pass the time pleasantly. He dropped off
into sleep late in the afternoon, and did not wake until after dark.

Instead of its being a long day for Nestor, it seemed a very short one.
From the Brooklyn cottage he went directly to a telegraph office in the
lower section of the city and asked for the manager, who had not yet
arrived, the hour being early. The clerk was inquisitive and tried to
find out what the boy wanted of the manager, but Nestor kept his own
counsel and the manager was finally reluctantly sent for.

When the manager arrived Nestor asked that an expert code operator be
procured, and this was reluctantly done, but only after the boy had
written and sent off a message to a man the manager knew to be high in
the secret service department of the government. In an hour, much to
the surprise of the manager, this important gentleman walked into the
office and asked for the boy.

After a short talk there, the two went to a hotel and secured a private
room, and two clerks familiar with code work were sent for. When a
waiter, in answer to a call, looked into the room he was astonished at
seeing the four very busy over a packet of letters.

Then, in a short time, code messages began to rain in on the manager.
They were from Washington, from