Meanwhile, Captain Miles and his party searched the passage in vain. The spy had vanished. Realising what might have happened, the officer sent back a party to go as quickly as possible to the mill, whilst he continued to search the vault. And so the party bound for the mill met the prisoner and his guards on the road, and returning, reported this to Captain Miles.

Packing the four Germans and their guards into a motor lorry, and putting the young officer in charge, he sent them to the town and turned his attention to the necessary investigations.

Pausing at the door of the tower.

“Look here, young Wolf Cub,” he said, “you’ve done some very smart work in discovering all this, and proved yourself some detective. You may come with me and investigate the tower. That valuable notebook of yours will then contain the end of the story. It will be a treasure worth keeping.”

And so Danny, in the seventh heaven of happiness, accompanied the officer up the winding stairs.

At the top of the tower they discovered a wireless apparatus, a cage of carrier pigeons, a powerful flashlight, and a large store of provisions.

“We knew there was something bad on,” said Captain Miles, “but not like this! You’ve done your country a good turn, indeed, in discovering it! Well done, Danny!”

That night the Troop and the Pack met at Troop Headquarters. Much ginger beer flowed. Then the Scoutmaster blew his whistle and, standing, on a soap box, addressed the assembled company. It was a long speech, but everyone listened, spellbound, for he told them the whole story of Danny’s adventures, since the first day, after the paper-chase.

When he had done, the Troop and Pack broke into cheers.

“Order, order!” shouted the Leaders, as the Cubmaster mounted the soap box.

“Your grasping Scoutmaster has tried to steal Danny and get him for his Troop,” he said. “But Danny has chosen to stay with us. I must announce that he has been elected Pack Leader, by the unanimous vote of the Pack—and we are jolly proud of him.”

“Speech, speech!” called everyone, and someone put Danny on the soap box.

“I wish you’d all chuck it,” he said. “I don’t deserve any praise. It was simply ripping fun—just what I had always longed for. I’ve had great luck, that’s all.”

“Your Pack Leader will need a cap several sizes larger soon,” said the Scoutmaster to the Cubmaster, as he opened the morning paper the next day.

Before long there was a letter of thanks from the Government, a medal, and a cheque for £100.

But there was something Danny valued more than all the rest. It was just a short letter of congratulations. But he took it away and read it all by himself in the garden, and did not show it to anybody else for quite a long time.

It was from the Chief Scout.

The End