When he realized that in the face of death Alice had followed him into the night, he wanted awfully to cry, then to seize the little Canadian and kiss her on both cheeks. Being a modest youth, he merely flushed and did neither the one nor the other, which was just as well, since Alice could understand blushes quite as readily as tears and other things. CHAPTER XXV THE WHISPERER TALKS Routing out a farmer a half mile north of the Captain's old home, Drew Lane got the local sheriff on the wire and told him what had been done. An hour later the four prisoners were behind bars in the county jail, and Iggy the Snake, who had put an end to a half-score of useful men, was in the morgue. The clock was striking midnight when Drew got Captain Burns on the wire. "What luck?" he asked the Captain with a voice hard to control. "Some luck, Drew," the Captain answered. "Tell you about it later. Thought I had something more. It went up like old St. Nick's reindeers, straight into thin air!" "Drive out early in the morning." There was suppressed animation in Drew's tone. "We got some Christmas presents for you." "Not what we been after?" "The same." "No--N-o-o!" The Captain fairly stuttered. "All five. One tried, condemned and executed; four behind the bars. "Turkey weighs twenty-five pounds." He changed his tone hastily. "It'll be stuffed with oysters and other things. You'll be out?" "Before you're up," the Captain rumbled. "Merry Christmas!" He hung up. "It _is_ Christmas at that," Drew murmured after consulting his watch. It was late when the stockings were filled that night. Is it any wonder that presents were sadly mixed, that Johnny received a powder-puff and Alice a bright and shiny toy pistol? But what did it matter? The sun was high when the young people piled out of their bunks in the cold little bedrooms. Already the savory odors of a feast, of a turkey roasting, cranberries stewing, mince pie baking, was in the air. What did presents matter? A feast, and joyous and more peaceful times were just ahead. The Captain did not keep his promise. He arrived at ten o'clock instead of at dawn. "Had to wait for this young lady," he explained, helping Grace Krowl out of his car. "Wanted her to have a look at one of your friends," he chuckled. "No time to talk of crooks, but that man J. Templeton Semp, the dutiful house detective, is none other than Dapper Dan Drew in other circles, and Dapper Dan, as you know, is one of the men you have in jail. "It often happens," he added when the surprise had subsided, "that men who are so very good at enforcing little unimportant regulations, such as the J. Templeton Semp Black List, are very bad in other ways. "But wait!" the Captain exclaimed. "I have still another guest." He gave Joyce Mills a strange look, then he roared: "Old Man, come out!" Out stepped Newton Mills. Like a flash, his daughter was in his arms.