"Ahem! Ah—." The captain of police cleared his throat twice and turned to the four young men apologetically.
"I have just received a telegram from Paris," he said, referring to a sheet of paper he held in his hand. "I guess your mission is as important as you stated. I am sorry you were delayed, but you will realize that it was not done intentionally. You were in the boat, you know, that those fugitives were known to have been using."
"Oh, we won't quarrel over the mistake," Jack assured him quickly. "What we are principally interested in now is getting to the Peace Conference. You can make up for the delay by expediting that, perhaps."
"We already have arranged for that," the police official replied. "If you will accompany me I will show you an aeroplane which is entirely at your disposal for the balance of your journey."
"Ah!" Jack exclaimed, pleasure lighting his face.
"Great!" Andy supplemented quickly.
In ten minutes they were climbing into a biplane, of course of nothing approaching the speed and power of that in which they had made the Transatlantic flight, but nevertheless of sufficient capacity to carry them direct to Versailles.
Three hours later, five of them being crowded upon the relatively small plane—the extra man being an Englishman, acting as pilot—they flew out across the English Channel and toward the shores of France. Before night they were over French soil and coming nearer every minute to the little city of their objective.
A wireless in advance had apprised the American delegation there of the fact of their safe arrival in England, and of their start upon the last leg of the trip. As they came above Paris, and the pilot finally circled downward toward the landing field, a great throng came rushing forward, evidently having had more than an inkling of who they were and what their mission.
As their machine rolled over the ground to a slow stop, a man in uniform and evidently of considerable importance thereabouts, stepped through the crowd and addressed the men in French.
Fred, the only one who was at all fluent in that language, responded. For several minutes they conversed, then Bentner turned to his companions.
"He extends to us the greetings of France," he explained, "and bids us follow him at once to where President Wilson, the Secretary of State, and several others of the American delegation await us."
"Can't we wash up a bit first?" Jack asked, really alarmed at the contemplation of going into such august company greased and grimy as they were.
The French officer shrugged his shoulders expressively. "It is not your appearance that counts," Fred translated his reply. "It is the importance of the documents you carry."
"True enough," Jack agreed.
Again the French officer was chattering volubly. The others awaited Fred's interpretation of it into English.
"He says," he began finally, "that he believes we have arrived just in the nick of time, and that in another hour or two it might have been too late."
"Let him take us at once to the President, then," Jack announced quickly. "We have no right to prolong the delay, now that we are actually in the city toward which we have been aiming for what now seems to me to have been years."
Fred indicated their desires to the Frenchman.
"Oui! Oui!" the latter exclaimed several times in succession, and led the way through the throng which parted for them, and toward an imposing building across a great public square.
Five minutes later they were in the presence of the President of the United States and the more important members of the American delegation.
"You have the documents?" asked the Secretary of State, after the President very briefly but very fervently had thanked the men for their courage and ability.
For answer, Jack undid his blouse, opened his clothing beneath, and produced a packet enclosed in a heavy reddish-brown envelope.
The premier of the American cabinet hastily opened it and took out the papers it contained. He counted them carefully, and then began a minute examination of their signatures and certain secret markings which would not have been noticeable to anyone who did not know they were there.
"They are intact, sir," the Secretary of State finally announced, turning to the President.
"Very well," the latter replied, and he bowed to the young men in a way that not only expressed his profound gratitude, but the fact also that they might now consider themselves at liberty to take the long rest in which they were of so much need.
"Quarters already have been arranged for you, and I trust that you will find all the comforts and conveniences," the President announced, and they were ushered back across the square and to a splendid suite of rooms in one of the quietest and most exclusive hotels in Versailles.