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"I've just been informed that the bail bond was signed by Mr. Bascomb, president of the Melliston Company." "Well, of all the crazy notions!" gasped Mr. Prenter. "But there! I won't say more. Bascomb is a queer fellow in some things, but he's a good fellow in lots of things, and a square, honest man in all things. If he signed Evarts's bond, there was a reason, and not a dishonest one."
Therefore, he's a specialist in some kinds of explosives." Evarts's face turned somewhat paler at this information of having an army officer on hand as a witness. "Do you call me a prisoner, too?" asked the man at the tiller uneasily. "Something like it, I guess," nodded Dick. "Say, but that's a pretty rank deal against an honest man," protested the skipper hoarsely.
Adams accepted the hospitality of the sleeper, with deep gratitude, the more because his first struggle with a sleeping-car made him doubt the value to him of a Pullman civilization; but he was even more grateful for the shelter of Mr. Evarts's house in H Street at the corner of Fourteenth, where he abode in safety and content till he found rooms in the roomless village.
After seven years' arduous and unsuccessful effort to explore the outskirts of London society, the Washington world offered an easy and delightful repose. When he looked round him, from the safe shelter of Mr. Evarts's roof, on the men he was to work with or against he had to admit that nine-tenths of his acquired education was useless, and the other tenth harmful.
Prenter had hold of another. "Two more of Evarts's bootleggers, eh?" muttered Reade. "Let me see." On one of the men he found a bottle of liquor. On the other no liquor was discovered. "Did Evarts pay you fellows a salary, or commission?" Tom demanded. "Commiss " began one of the bootleggers, then stopped himself with a vocal jerk. "Evarts? I don't even know who he is."
"Don't make the mistake of touching me," urged Tom, quietly, "but come along. This way out of camp!" Evarts swung suddenly, driving a fist straight at Reade's face. But the young chief engineer was always alert at such times. One of his feet moved in between Evarts's feet, and the ex-foreman flopped down on his back. "Come on, now!" commanded Tom, jerking the fallen foe to his feet.
Do you fellows reckon you want Mr. Reade to bump in here and shake you out?" sounded the warning voice of Evarts. As Tom and the motor boat's engine tender reached the little, box-like shack from which Evarts's tones proceeded, four men, seated on the floor, were seen to be lacing their shoes by the dim light of a lantern. "A nice lot you are!" called Tom crisply.
However, as Tom kept silent the young soldier did the same. "What on earth can Bascomb be doing here?" Tom wondered. "Is he, too, one of the conspirators? It is unbelievable! Yet with what speed he obeyed Evarts's summons to come and bail him out!
Meanwhile others would be nominated, and then a veteran member, whom they designated, should propose me in the interest of harmony and the union of the party, whereat the sponsors of the other candidate would withdraw their man, and I be nominated by acclamation. My answer was a most earnest appeal for Mr. Evarts. Then Mr. Evarts's friends rallied to his support and he was elected. I place Mr.
I only came out to talk with you." "If you didn't surrender, then excuse me, and go ahead and put up a fight," laughed the policeman, handily removing Evarts's revolver from a hip pocket. "Now, look in here, Tom," urged Dick. "Do you see what caught my eye?" Prescott pointed to a sharp-nosed cylinder, some eight feet long.
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