"You boys come into my office," said the Colonel. He led the
way, spoke to the orderly, and closed the door.

"Now, boys," he said, "you are such little daredevils that you
are not going to like the plan we have made at all. I have
consulted with the police, and with Colonel Handler, and now I
want to take you into our confidence. All the credit for
discovering this particular group of spies belongs to you. We do
not want to get you into any unnecessary harm, however, and it is
wisest to have you keep entirely out of it. That seems poor pay,
doesn't it, when you have done such good work? However, right is
right, and you want to be good soldiers and take orders as such.
We are going to raid the house where we know the gang will soon
meet. We have located the place, and the men. The fellow you
gave such a start last night, Beany, will not trouble us again.
He never came out of that fit."

"My gosh!" said Beany. It gave him a queer feeling.

"No," said the Colonel, "he is done for. Now, boys, take a day
off. Go home and see your mothers."

He played with the pen on his desk for a moment.

"Boys, I am going to tell you something. I am fifty-eight years
old and I don't want you to forget what I tell you. Whatever you
do, whatever gain, wherever you go, remember one thing. Don't
neglect your mothers. No true man will. As long as you live, or
as long as your mothers live, you will seem just little boys to
them. They never think that you grow up. When you were little