"I wonder what number that house is."

"I don't know. Let's see, Howard Seeley lives on Elm Street, just the
next block down; his number is eleven hundred and something."

"The German told Harold he lived at twelve eighty-two, and I'll bet you
that was the house."

"Whew!" whistled Hugh. "I wonder if it was."

"They probably went to find out why the bridge wasn't blown up to-night,"
said Bob. "Do you suppose that could be it?"

"Maybe. We could have told them quicker if they'd come to us
though," chuckled Hugh. "They'll probably give that fellow the
mischief for failing."

"They can't get at him if he's in jail."

"That's so. Suppose we're called as witnesses at his trial? They'll learn
that we spoiled their game and our lives won't be worth two cents."

"Well, if those men are plotters we must prove it before the case even
comes to trial."

"Do you suppose they have a regular organization to blow up everything
around here that they can?" said Hugh. "I should think the secret service
would get after them."