The crook reached the conservatory and opened a glass window leading out into the little garden beside the house.  He was about to step out when the sound of voices in the garden arrested him.  Elaine, Aunt Josephine and I had gone out and Elaine was showing me a new rose which had just been sent her.

The crook fell back and dropped down behind the palms.  Jennings looked about, but saw no one and stood there puzzled.  Then the crook, fearing that he might be captured at any moment, looked about to see where he might hide the torpedo.  There did not seem to be any place.  Quickly he began to dig out the earth in one of the palm pots.  He dropped the torpedo, wrapped still in the handkerchief, into the hole and covered it up.

Jennings was clearly puzzled.  He had seen some one rush in, but the conservatory was apparently empty.  He had just turned to go out when he saw a palm move.  There was a face!  He made a dive for it and in a moment both he and the crook were rolling over and over.

. . . . . . .

Kennedy and the Secret Service men were talking earnestly when they heard the cry for help and the scuffle.  They rushed out and into the conservatory in time to see the crook, who had broken away, knock out Jennings.  He sprang to his feet and darted away.

Kennedy’s mind was working rapidly.  Had the man been after the other model?  The detectives went after him.  But Craig went for the torpedo.  As he looked in the tank, it was gone!  He turned and followed the crook.

I was still in the garden with Elaine and Aunt Josephine when I heard sounds of a struggle and a moment later a man emerged through the window of the conservatory followed by two other men.  I went for him, but he managed to elude me and dashed for the wall in the back of the garden.  The Secret Service men fired at him but he kept on.  A moment later Craig came through the window.

“Did any of you take the torpedo?” he asked.

“No,” replied Elaine, “we left it just as you had it.”

Kennedy seemed wild with anxiety.  “Then both models have been stolen!” he cried, dashing after the Secret Service men with me close behind.

The crook by this time had reached the top of the wall.  Just as he was about to let himself down safely on the other side, a shot struck him.  He pitched over and we ran forward.

But he had just enough of a start.  In spite of the shock and the wound he managed to pick himself up and with the help of a confederate hobbled into a waiting car, which sped away just as we came over the wall.

We dropped to the ground just as another car approached.  Craig commandeered it from its astonished driver, the Secret Service men and I piled in and we were off in a few seconds in hot pursuit.

. . . . . . .

Down at the terminal where trains came in from Washington, Wu, much better now, was waiting.