Enoch gave Ames a long steady look and the younger man relaxed a little.

“Now,” Ames went on, “knowing Brown as I do, I wonder if little Hunt Post, who, like his mother was red headed and blue eyed, was burned up in a railroad accident.  Did Field speak of the child?”

Enoch pressed the desk button and Abbott came.  “Give me the Field envelope, please, Abbott.”

When the envelope was in his hands, Enoch tore the flap up and began to read the close written pages.  When he had finished, he put the manuscript back with steady hands.  “Most of the letter,” he said quietly, “is taken up by the recital of Brown’s shady moral career in Mexico.  At the end he speaks of a Mexican woman with red hair and violet eyes who lived with Brown for some months.  She left to act as nurse to little Hunt Post.  Some time after the railroad accident, Curly was the unsuspected witness to a secret meeting between this Anita and Brown.  The woman demanded money and Brown demanded proof that little Hunt was dead.  The conference ended only when Anita produced a box containing the child’s body.  Curly did not know how much Brown paid her or where she went.”

Ames gave an ugly laugh.  “Hoist with his own petard!  Think of him starting me after the Luigi scandal!”

“Tell Abbott what you’ve just told me,” said Enoch.

He did not stir while Ames repeated the story.  Charley’s eyes blazed.  When Ames finished, Charley started to speak but the young reporter interrupted.

“Mr. Secretary, I want you to let me tie up the loose ends for you.  We’ve got to put the screws on Luigi and I’ll take another trip West.”

“Wait a bit!” exclaimed Charley.  “Mr. Secretary, I’m going to claim that long deferred vacation.  Let me spend it with Ames clearing this matter up for you.”

Enoch drew a quick breath.  “When could you begin, you two?”

“Now!” the two young men said together.

Enoch smiled.  “Wait until to-morrow.  I’ve more important work to-night, and I want to go over every detail with you before you start out.  In the meantime, Abbott, guard this envelope as you would your life.”

“What won’t we do to Brown!” exclaimed Charley.

“I’ve punished Brown,” said Enoch.  “He’ll never hurt me again.  As soon as this thing is cleared, we’ll forget him.”

Again Ames laughed.  “Believe me, he’s going to be good the rest of his life.  Think of your reading that stuff about little Hunt, Mr. Secretary, and never realizing its import!”

“God knows, I didn’t want to read the story of another man’s ignominy!” said Enoch, earnestly, “and I never would have, had not—­” he paused, then said as if to himself, “God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform!”

The two younger men stood in silence.  Then Enoch said, “Thank you, Ames, I’ll see you at nine o’clock to-morrow morning.  Abbott, get the White House for me and then go home to dinner.”