The man who was sitting at the table rose. He wore the scarlet uniform of a general; across his breast was the blue ribbon of the Garter. There was in his eyes a kindliness and humanity which Dick had not imagined he would find. “Will you be seated? Now please tell me the story as quickly as you can, because I have an appointment elsewhere, and punctuality is the politeness of princes,” he smiled. He listened attentively, stopping Gordon now and again to ask a question. When Dick had finished, he took up a pen and wrote a word in a bold, boyish hand, blotted it punctiliously and handed it to the Secretary of State. “There is your reprieve. I am very glad,” he said, and Dick, bowing over the extended hand, felt the music of triumph in his soul, forgot for the moment the terrible danger in which this boy had stood; and forgot, too, the most important factor of all—the Frog, still vigilant, still vengeful, still powerful! When he got back to the Home Office and had taken farewell, with a very earnest expression of gratitude, of the irascible, but kindly Minister, Dick flew up the stairs to his own office and seized the telephone. “Put me through to Gloucester 8585 Official,” he said, and waited for the long-distance signal. It came after a few minutes. “Sorry, sir, no call through to Gloucester. Line out of order. Trunk wires cut.” Dick put down the ’phone slowly. Then it was that he remembered that the Frog still lived. CHAPTER XXXV GETTING THROUGH WHEN Elk came up to the Prosecutor’s room, Dick was sitting at the table, writing telegrams. They were each addressed to the Governor of Gloucester Prison, and contained a brief intimation that a reprieve for James Carter was on its way. Each was marked viâ a different route. “What’s the idea?” said Elk. “The ’phone to Gloucester is out of order,” said Dick, and Elk bit his lip thoughtfully. “Is that so?” he drawled. “Then if the ’phone’s out of order——” “I don’t want to think that,” said Dick. Elk took up the instrument. “Give me the Central Telegraph Office, miss,” he said. “I want to speak to the Chief Clerk. . . . Yes, Inspector Elk, C.I.D.” After a pause, he announced himself again. “We’re putting some wires through to Gloucester. I suppose the lines are all right?” His face did not move a muscle while he listened, then: “I see,” he said. “Any roundabout route we can get? What’s the nearest town open?” A wait. “Is that so? Thank you.” He put down the instrument. “All wires to Gloucester are cut. The trunk wire has been cut in three places; the connection with Birmingham, which runs in an earthenware pipe underground, has been blown up, also in three places.” Dick’s eyes narrowed. “Try the Radio Company,” he said. “They’ve got a station at Devizes, and another one somewhere near Cheltenham, and they could send on a message.” Again Elk applied himself to the telephone.