Drummond is under arrest, and so is Gaston. Neither
of them could have had a hand in it. And there were two, so, if M.
Lemaire was in it, he had an unknown accomplice. But I don't believe
M. Lemaire had any personal hand in laying that mine. I've a notion
that he considers himself entirely too high class to go into any mere
blasting operations."
"'Mere blasting operations' is good," smiled Hal Hastings, "when we
stop to think what those 'blasting operations' might have done for us
if it hadn't been for Williamson."
"Anyone taking my name in vain?" demanded the machinist, smiling as he
put in an appearance at that moment.
"We're trying to see," Eph explained, "whether we can do any better
guessing than the Secret Service men as to the fellows who were kind
enough to lay that mine under us last night."
"Got it figured out?" asked the machinist, as he transferred, a generous
helping of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes, to his plate.
"For myself," put in Hal, "I'd suspect that fellow Gaston, in an instant,
if he had only been at liberty. That fellow has an eye that looks like
all the letters in the word 'r-e-v-e-n-g-e.'"
"That's so," nodded Jack, thoughtfully, as he ate. "But we happen to
know that Gaston is very safe under lock and key.
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