Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 169: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Buftalo Tens Kendall frowned and was about to ven- ture a remark, when his friend resumed: “Listen to every word: There’s a twelve- foot space between the north wall of the Bureau and an iron picket-fence, isn’t there?” Kendall nodded. “‘And it wouldn’t-be a very difficult mat- ter for a man on the inside to toss a pair of plates over that fence onto the snow- covered turf just beyond?” Again the Director nodded affirmatively. A light came to him. He began to realize what an easy matter it would be—granting darkness and confusion—for a plate-printer to hurl a pair of precious plates through an open window to the feet of a waiting ac- complice outside the grounds. And, no buildings of any sort on that unfrequented side of the Bureau being nearer than the Washington Monument, it occurred to Ken- dall that the plotters had had an easy task. Free from observation, cloaked by darkness, doubtless the ultimate thief was now well on his way—where? “First thing you do, call up the chief watchman.” Scott picked up his overcoat which he had laid aside just previous to his” visit to the ink-mill. ‘Tell him,” he went on, ‘to pass me out. I'll flash my star on him so he’ll be sure I’m the right party. Then I’ll see what sort of a story the snow has to telkme. My light, please.” Kendall passed Scott the latter’s flash- lamp, then turned to pick up the telephone receiver. “Just a moment,” said the Secret Service man. With an arm deep in the sleeve of his overcoat, he paused to think. . “The inside party may be any one or two out of fifty printers,” he said presently. “But we'll take a chance on Mr. Poor and Mr. Friebus. It’s not reasonable to suppose that a man would steal his own plate to chuck out the window, with other backs and faces all around him. So we’ll assume that that was the very stunt pulled off. While I’m outside, and after you’ve made sure that ‘nothing else is missing, you send for Poor and Friebus. Tell them that they’re not under suspicion, then put ’em in sepa- . rate rooms and order ’em to make out long written reports embodying the facts of the case. I'll be back before they’ve finished.” The door closed softly behind Scott as the Director told Switchboard to connect 167 him with the guard-room. His message to the chief watchman delivered, he then sent for the two plate-printers and followed out Scott’s instructions. Fifteen or twenty minutes passed, when the Secret Service man re-entered the room. Without pausing to remove his overcoat or address a word to the Director, he settled himself at the telephone and snatched the receiver from its hook. _ “Give me ‘the outside,’”’ he snapped into the transmitter. Then, ‘Long distance— hurry, please!’ Kendall, his facial muscles tense with con- cern and curiosity, listened for the next words. He knew Dave Scott of old—knew well the marvelous reasoning and deductive powers possessed by this big-chested man from the fourth floor of the Treasury De- partment building. The squeaky rattle of Miss Long Distance came faintly to the Director’s ears, but Scott cut her short. “T want Baltimore—quickly!” he said. “Private wire two-eight-two. Bill Secret Service for the call; official business, Govern- ment rates.” During the pause that ensued, Scott laid his open watch on the desk before him. Then he drew from a side pocket of his over- coat a piece of paper containing what ap- peared to the Director to be several damp cigarette butts. These he examined closely, until the lapse of time brought his eyes back to the speeding second-hand of the watch. “Shake ’em up, girl!’ he growled into the instrument after working the hook up and down several times. “Hello!”’ he said an instant later. ‘“This you, Parker? . . . Never mind that now. ... Yes, I’m in Washington. Get this: Two plates stolen from the Bureau of En- graving and Printing this evening. A face and back plate for the Buffalo Ten. One of the men we want may be on B. & O. train 26, due there in eighteen minutes. Or he may be on Penn. train 14, due at Baltimore in half an hour. If he tries his get-a-way over the Southern, we’ve got time yet to nail him here in town. straight: The man we want wears Corrigan rubber heels, smokes ‘Pasha’s Pleasure’ cigarettes, uses a pocket cigar lighter of some sort, and he may have a woven cane suitcase with him two feet long and six inches deep. Or he may have checked it and mailed the check ahead somewheres.” Gomichooks CO) Now, get this © (EO)