They went out reluctantly. He placed her in his car and they drove toward his home--their home now.... The house was ablaze with lights. Two cars stood at the curb. Potter entered the driveway, wondering, stopped at the door and alighted. Side by side he entered with Hildegarde. His father stood in the hall in hat and coat, fresh from the street. "Dad!" said Potter. "Son!... Son, where have you been? What has happened? We've hunted for you--Downs has hunted for you.... We thought--" "Where's mother, Dad?... I want to take--my wife--to her." "Your wife? Is that what you've been doing? Getting married?" "Not getting married--getting the wife.... We will be married--" "In good time," said Hildegarde, gravely. Downs appeared in the door of the library, came forward eagerly. "Waite, I'm glad to see you. I'm relieved. We were afraid they had you." Potter wanted to ask questions, not to answer them. "What have you done? Have you got them? Did they get away?" "We had a mighty successful round-up," Downs said, "and those papers were worth their weight in diamonds.... We smashed the organization, smashed it flat.... But the man Cantor got away. There's not a trace of him." "No," said Potter, soberly, "Cantor did not get away." "What's that? Where is he?" "Let _me_ tell you," said Hildegarde. "Potter won't tell it as it ought to be told." She took up the story, told it vividly, feelingly, so that her hearers saw the things she saw, experienced the things she had experienced, and as she continued Downs and Fabius Waite looked at Potter as at a stranger suddenly set among them, some stranger worthy of deference, of something like awe. "So," finished Hildegarde, "Potter met him in the air--and shut the highway to him.... And that was Cantor's end." "Son," said Fabius Waite, his words vibrant with pride, "I can't say what I feel.... I'm proud--proud.... The whole country will be proud." "The country mustn't know," said Potter, looking at Downs. "Until the war is done," said Downs. "But there are those who shall know.... My report will go to them. I think you may count on the thanks, the gratitude of the man who lives in the White House.... It was a big job, well done." "Can you wait, Downs? I want to take Hildegarde to mother. There's something I must arrange with you." Hildegarde need not have feared for her welcome, not after Potter's mother looked into her face and heard her say, "This time, Mrs. Waite, I can tell you that I love him." Potter hastened back to Downs. "Did those papers name Herman von Essen?" he asked. "Yes." "He is dead.... I found him dead on his library floor. That girl was his daughter--she's going to be my wife." "I understand. You're entitled to some reward, Mr. Waite, and this is a small one. No one shall ever know. His record will be clean." "Thank you," Potter said. "I'm tired.... Good night."