"

"If you notice," he continued, "it comes from away out West, and it
might apply to any one of thousands of cases. 'My Old Mother' might have
been deported weeks ago."

"But this is yesterday's wire," Hamilton's friend interjected, "you said
there were new developments in the case."

"There are," Farrell replied, drawing another telegram out of his
pocket. "This one came this morning, and it's just about as intelligent
as the one you have. Notice, though, that it's dated from Chicago early
yesterday evening."

"What does it say?" burst out Hamilton, too eager to wait until it was
read.

"It's very short," was the answer, "it just reads:

"'--Hold--Mother--'"

"Unsigned?"

"Unsigned, just as before."

"It must be from the same person," Hamilton suggested.

"I think there's little doubt of that," the deportation chief agreed.

"Whoever sent it must be traveling fast," the boy remarked, "that last
one was from Montana."

"I've been doing my best to persuade myself that I have the right to
keep Bridget longer. Twice I've begged an extra stay from the
Commissioner, and he's been willing to consent, but he thinks she's got
to go back now. There's really no valid reason that I can give against
it."

As they walked toward the desk in the deporting division, one of the
clerks called the chief. He came back a moment or two later with a
telegram in his hand.

"A third one," he said, "it must have come while I was out at lunch. The
same person wrote all three, for this is almost the same as the first;
it reads:

"'--Don't--deport--my--old--Mother--I--have--plenty--to--support--her--'"

"Where's it dated from?" asked the boy.

"I hadn't noticed," the deportation chief replied. "Oh, yes, why it's
from Albany!"

"That's pretty near here!" Hamilton said excitedly. "Oh, Mr. Farrell,
what time was that sent?"

"Quarter to twelve."

"Whoever sent it ought to be here by now! Mr. Farrell, I'm just as sure
as can be that is from Bridget Mahoney's son."

"If it is, he may reach here in time," the other answered, "but it will
mean a great deal of trouble, because the boat sails early in the
morning long before the office here is open, and the deported aliens go
on board to-night. Indeed they are going now---if they haven't gone."

"And Bridget with them?"

"Yes, I'm sorry to say Bridget is with them." He strolled to the
window. "No," he continued, "they haven't gone yet, but they will in a
few minutes."

"C