CHAPTER X
THE CLOUD GROWS DARKER
For a moment Willie was almost stunned. He stood as motionless as a statue. His Chief was studying his face with searching gaze. Willie endured the examination without flinching. Not for a second did he turn away from the penetrating look. Then he found his voice.
“Do you accuse me of taking the papers?” he demanded.
“I haven’t accused you of anything,” said the Chief. “I have merely stated the facts. Circumstances point to you. It’s up to you to prove that you did not touch those papers.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Willie retorted indignantly. “If you want to make me out a thief, it’s up to you to prove I did take them. It’s the law in this land that a man is innocent until he is proved guilty.”
The Chief seemed to be weighing Willie’s words, as though to determine whether Willie was making a bold bluff or voicing a natural indignation. If he came to any conclusion, he did not mention it. Instead, he went on, “What you say is true, in a general way. But if you really are honest, you will be eager to prove your innocence.”
“Of course I am eager to prove my innocence,” cried Willie. “And I shall not rest day or night until the truth is known. But it isn’t fair to think I’m the thief, merely because I happened to be in the building when the papers were stolen. And anyway, was it fair for you to leave the papers where they could be taken, and not notify me so I could be on the watch?”
“The papers were not left where they could be easily taken. They were locked in my desk.”
“Then you should have been careful to keep your keys in your pocket,” said Willie.
“The keys were in my pocket, all right. Whoever opened the drawer had a duplicate key.” And again the Chief looked hard at Willie.
“Then I don’t see why you should suspect me,” said Willie. “I certainly have no duplicate keys.”
“Perhaps not,” continued the Special Agent, looking harder than ever at Willie. “But I lent you my keys yesterday to open that cupboard in the corner. You had the keys in your pocket when you went to your boarding-place to get your wireless outfit. What was there to prevent you from having a duplicate key made while you were away? You were gone a long time.”
Poor Willie! He was almost overwhelmed. Circumstances certainly did point to him. He knew it was useless to protest his innocence. He saw now that what he must do was to prove it.
“Mr. King!” he cried, as soon as he could get command of himself. “I’ll have to admit that circumstances are badly against me. But I am absolutely innocent. I shall not rest until this matter is cleared up. I want you to search me this instant, and my desk, and the wireless room.”
“Then take off your coat and give it to me.”
Willie pulled off his coat. Mr. King examined it thoroughly, then carefully ran his hands over Willie. Next he searched Willie’s desk and finally the wireless room. He found no trace of his missing papers.
“See!” cried Willie jubilantly. “I do not have them.”
“That doesn’t prove you didn’t take them.”
“Aren’t you going to give me a fair deal?” cried Willie passionately.
“Of course I’ll give you a square deal. I’ll prove that by sending for a Secret Service man to investigate the matter at once.” Again he looked hard at Willie, but Willie never flinched.
“I’ll be very glad if you will,” he said. “If anybody can find out the truth, the Secret Service men can.”
Within a short time a Secret Service operative arrived. Willie ushered him into Mr. King’s office and closed the door. If ever in his life he wanted to be an eavesdropper, it was now. He resolutely fought down the idea and went back to his desk. But it was hard to keep his mind on his work.
After a time the Secret Service man came out of Mr. King’s office and began to question Willie. He asked him about every move he had made during the dinner hour, and Willie, comprehending his purpose, tried to account for every second. He explained that he had left the office on the very stroke of twelve, in order to get a quick bite so he could use his wireless during his free time.
“I ran over to the Childs’ restaurant,” said Willie, “and got a sandwich and a cup of coffee.”
“Can you prove it?” demanded the Secret Service man.
“I think so. I can pick out the waitress who brought me the food.”
“Then do it,” said the detective.
Willie asked Mr. King if he might step out with the detective. “Certainly,” replied the Chief. “Ask one of the clerks to keep his eye on the door.”
Willie did so and joined the Secret Service man. The restaurant was just across Bowling Green, on the east side of Broadway. The two descended in the elevator, walked across the little park, and entering the restaurant, stood near the door. Willie watched the waitresses come and go, for there were still some people eating. Presently Willie touched the detective’s arm. “That’s the girl,” he said, and he pointed to a black-haired waitress just coming from the kitchen with a tray of food.
The detective walked over to her table, followed by Willie. When she had distributed her food, the detective spoke to her quietly. “Did you ever see this lad before?” he asked.
The waitress looked keenly at Willie. “Yes,” she said. “He’s been in here several times.”
“When did you see him last?”
“At dinner-time.”
“Do you remember what he had to eat?”
“I’m not sure, but I think he had coffee and a sandwich.”
“How are you able to recall him?”
The girl hesitated. “Maybe it’s because he’s so little, but I guess it’s because he’s so polite. Anyway, he’s different from most of the boys that come in here, and I like him. He often eats at my table.”
“I’m obliged to you,” said the Secret Service man, and the two investigators went out.
“So far so good,” said the Secret Service man. “Now let’s return to your office.” They walked back to the Custom-house. “How do you know it was twelve-fifteen when you got back?” asked the detective.
“I looked at the clock, to see how long I could stay in the wireless room.”
“Was anybody in the office then?”
“Mr. King was. He sat at his desk, but his back was toward me and he was busy so that I am sure he did not notice me.”
“What did you do next?”
“I went directly into the wireless room.”
“Let’s take a look at it.”
They passed through one or two of the office rooms and then into a small inner room that had been made for a sort of storeroom, but was little used for any purpose. The Secret Service man looked around the room.
“What did you do after you came here?” he demanded.
“I shut the door, so I would not be interrupted. Then I sat down at my instrument and called my old chums at home.”
“How long did you call them?”
“I can’t say exactly. I called and called at frequent intervals, right up to the time I went back to the office. When I reached my desk, it was exactly one o’clock.”
“Can you prove you were calling all that time?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I didn’t get a single answer. If I could find any other operator who heard me, I might be able to. But I don’t believe there’s much chance that I could find such a person.”
“Why not? There are lots of operators talking and listening in all the time.”
“Certainly. But mostly they use longer wave-lengths than I did. You know we amateur operators are limited to a low wave-length. There are hundreds of operators, no doubt, who were near enough to have heard me, but mostly they work in longer wave-lengths.”
The detective frowned. “You don’t seem very eager to find out,” he said.
“On the contrary, I’d give anything I own to find another operator who had a complete record of my calls. But I realize that probably no such record exists, either on paper or in some operator’s memory. You would hardly expect anybody to listen for three-quarters of an hour to a strange call or to make a note of hearing such a call. But just the same I’m going to begin a search for an operator who did hear me. I’ll get a list of stations within talking distance, and I’ll comb that list until I find somebody who heard my call. But it will be a big job and it will take me a long time. You know I can’t work very late in the evening, for I have to leave the building when it closes for the night.”
“Very well,” said the Secret Service man. “I advise you to make every effort you can. We have no proof whatever that you were in the wireless room at all during the noon hour. There is only your word for it.”
Poor Willie! The further matters went, the worse it seemed for him. He didn’t know where to turn for help or counsel. Roy’s ship had sailed during the forenoon, taking the purser and Roy with it. They were the only people in all this great city that Willie felt were really his friends. He didn’t know how they could help him, even if he could see them. But it would at least relieve his mind if he could talk the matter over with some one who was friendly. Then Willie thought of Reynolds, of the Morro Castle. He knew that he had sailed away two or three hours behind Roy, so he couldn’t talk with him. The only other person Willie could think of who might have a friendly interest in him was Sheridan. At the thought of Sheridan, Willie felt heartened. He would see the big Secret Service man at the first opportunity. Also he would get the list of radio stations and begin immediately to search for an operator who had heard his calls. And he would do some detective work on his own account. If ever there was occasion for him to make use of what detective powers he had, now was the time. The stake was the biggest he could ever work for. It was his own reputation.
The moment Willie was free that afternoon, he hurried to the Secret Service office and there he found Sheridan. He told him of the difficulty he was in.
“Do you think I would steal those papers?” he asked, after telling the Secret Service man his story.
“No, I don’t. But my belief in you won’t help you any. What we want to do is to find out who did take the papers. Now tell me everything that has occurred in that office since you started to work there.”
Willie reviewed in detail the story of his services to date, beginning with the first morning he went to work. He did not even neglect to tell Sheridan how Tom Smith had bullied him and threatened him, or how he, Willie, had made the ridiculous mistakes about the spittoons and other things, though evidently these things could have no possible bearing on the case. Yet he tried not to omit even the smallest details.
“That’s a good, clear statement,” commented Sheridan, when Willie had finished his story. “I have confidence in your innocence, but I’ll tell you frankly that things look bad for you. I hope the man on the case will get to the bottom of it.”
Willie stepped back aghast. “Aren’t you going to make an investigation yourself?” he cried.
“It is not for me to decide what I shall investigate,” replied the Secret Service man. “That’s up to the Chief. Besides, there’s a man already detailed to the case. I wouldn’t like to butt into another man’s job.”
“Then I’ll appeal to the Chief,” said Willie desperately. “The man that’s on the job believes I’m the thief and is trying hard to fasten the crime on me.”
“Hold on! Hold on!” said Sheridan. “United States Secret Service men don’t try to fasten crimes on any one.”
“I beg your pardon,” said Willie. “But I can’t help feeling indignant at the way he questioned me.”
“That questioning may mean your salvation, young man. If you are innocent, you want the truth disclosed. And the only way we can get at the truth is to follow out every clue that presents. He naturally started with you, because that seemed the obvious clue to follow. But it doesn’t follow that he thinks you guilty or that he is trying to prove you took the papers. If it had been my lot to make this investigation, I should doubtless have done just what he did. Now don’t queer your case with the Chief by making any such charges.”
“I’ll think twice before I speak once,” said Willie. “Will you ask the Chief if he will see me?”
“Yes, but it won’t do you any good. He’s busy.”
The Chief, however, was willing to see Willie. How much Sheridan had to do with making that possible, he did not say. But he came back, smiling, and told Willie to step into the Chief’s office.
“Hello, youngster,” said the Chief cordially. “What brings you back to the Secret Service? Lost your job at the Custom-house already?”
“No, sir,” said Willie, “but it looks as though I’m in a fair way to do so.” And he told the Chief all about his difficulties. He told him so heart-brokenly and fervently, moreover, that the Chief was touched.
“A fellow who appeals to the Secret Service for help when he’s accused of wrong,” said the Chief, “isn’t very likely to be guilty, is he?”
“Thank you,” said Willie. “That’s the first encouraging word anybody has said to me since this thing happened. I am not guilty, and all I ask is to have Mr. Sheridan investigate the matter and show who is.”
“You may be very sure we shall go into the matter thoroughly,” replied the Chief. “It is a serious business. But I cannot promise to put any particular man on the investigation. You may be sure, however, that you will have a fair deal and that we will get to the bottom of the affair.”
Willie went away, feeling that his effort had been in vain. It was, however, more fruitful than he ever dreamed it would be. The first Secret Service operative questioned others besides Willie, and at once everybody in the office knew him for what he was. Thereafter his usefulness was past. The Chief recalled him and sent a second operative: and the new man was Sheridan. But no one knew he was a Secret Service man. He came into the building as a cleaner and porter; and even Willie would not have known him had he seen him. For a long time he made no more headway than did Willie, who was industriously communicating, day after day, with wireless operators, in a quest for some one who had heard his signals on the day the papers were stolen from the Special Agent’s desk. But apparently the quest was vain. Meanwhile Willie did his work with absolute fidelity, putting into it every bit of mind and energy he possessed. But he could see that he was watched on all sides, and that belief in his guilt did not lessen as time passed.