"A worn white handkerchief,
eh?"
"Name or mark on it?" asked Jack, passing the cloth to Ned.
"Nothing of the sort," was the answer, "but there's something better.
When the fellow pulled at the Chink's greasy pigtail he got his hand
smeared with oil. Then he grasped this white cloth fiercely, and
there you are! See! The mark of the thumb couldn't be plainer if it
had been printed on. Observe the long cicatrice on the ball of the
thumb? I'll take this down and photograph it."
"Tall, strong, blonde, scar on the thumb!" laughed Jack. "We are
getting on."
"It would be interesting to know how he got into the house," Ned
mused.
"If we could only catch him and shut his mouth," Jack muttered, "we
wouldn't have such a rotten bad time in the mountains."
"It is not what he knows," Ned suggested. "It is what his master as
Washington knows. We might put this chap under ten feet of earth, but
the opposition from Washington would go right on."
"When was the child abducted?" asked Jack. "When and how?"
"He was taken from in front of the embassy early in the morning. The
ambassador brought him out for a spin in his automobile and left him
out in front a moment. When he went back to continue his morning ride
the automobile and the boy were nowhere to be seen! This was before
nine o'clock Monday morning.
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