"Please, Professor, don't insist. This job is not for you. Tell us what to do and Jimmy and I can do what needs be done. The first thing is to get Tommy, then there will be time--" "But there may not be time, John. Men's lives may depend on--oh, well have it your way. Hale, if you and John are insistent on acting like impulsive fools and not taking along qualified officers, see to it that you get whatever papers you can at this man's house. And for God's sake, boys, be careful. This is a dangerous man. He will be on his own ground." The three were on their way. As the two sea sleds put off sputtering to a crescendo roar as they made a wide curving wake on the still water, McCall disturbed by the noise came to the door. After they beached their boats in the tiny cove, Jimmy and Matthews, following Harry, alternately running and jogging, hurried along the dim trail. When Jimmy judged they had covered three-quarters of the distance they heard a ringing bark followed by a faint crack of a firearm. This was shortly followed by another. The three stood stock still for a moment and then put on an additional burst of speed. Before they came into the clearing of the farm, they heard the sound of a motor car, fading into the distance. As the three panting figures came into the clearing they saw the tawny figure of a collie racing frantically back and forth about a dark mass lying near the house. The collie was whimpering and whining. The collie looked at the three approaching figures expectantly; it stopped its whining, leading the way directly to the thing lying near the rear door of the small farm house. A tall figure lay there with its sightless eyes staring into the sun. A dark, red stain was widening on its shirt front. At this moment a shrill treble yell was heard from the house. Matthews raced through the open door and bounded up the steps. Finding the door locked, from behind which the crying was coming, he stepped back. He called out: "Stand away from the door Tommy, Uncle Jack's going to break it open." The door flew open under the impetus of a large foot planted near the lock. A small figure rushed into his arms hugging him tightly. "Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack! Where's Mummie? Where's Pop?" Matthews held the small figure off and looked at him anxiously. Except that his clothes were in a state that would have sent his finicky mother frantic, the youngster did not seem the worse for wear. "Did the man hurt you, Tommy?" "Oh, no, Uncle Jack. He is a good man, nice man. He gimme candy, he gimme pie." The voice went prattling on as Jack carried him downstairs. Harry Stoy with youthful enthusiasm and the morbidity often observed in the young wanted to examine the thing that lay on the ground. Jimmy, with full knowledge of police regulations and requirements, objected. He went into the house and made a careful search, taking such papers as he thought might be of use to Professor Brierly, the scientist, and to Jimmy, the newspaper man.