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President? They did not know; Brownell had said come. They talked in low tones, as if in the presence of death; their nerves were on edge and there was nothing to say.
    When the door opened they jerked about to face it. Mrs.Stanley entered, and those seated arose. Secretary Brownell followed her and closed the door behind him. Mrs. Stanley came forward, stopped, and looked around as if counting them. She, who always smiled, was not smiling. She seemed out of breath, her hair was untidy, and she had put her hand on the back of a chair as if she needed it there. She said, “Be seated. Please do.” Alex Liggett, the urbane Secretary of State, went to manipulate her chair for her. She shook her head, then changed her mind, nodded her thanks and sat down. Secretary Brownell stood beside her; the other men took chairs.
    She said, “I have had a problem, gentlemen. I can keep it for my own no longer; it is yours and the country’s. The President has been kidnapped.”
    They stared at her as if she had suddenly begun skipping the rope or standing on her head. She went on: “The news has been withheld, even from you, for five hours. That may have been ill-advised—I don’t know—it was done by me and the responsibility is mine.”
    “I share it.” Brownell spoke sharply. “Officially, I take it and welcome it.”
    There were ejaculations. Three or four were on their feet. Billings, an old friend of the Stanleys, looked like a cretin with his mouth open. Liggett, Secretary of State, exclaimed idiotically, “Kidnapped, how, who?” Vice-President Molleson, hunched forward in his chair, was regarding the President’s wife with a shocked and suspicious stare. The quiet composed voice that cut through the confusion belonged to Lewis Wardell, Secretary of the Interior.
    “Suppose you tell us about it, Mrs. Stanley.”
    Brownell asked, “Shall I?”
    She shook her head. “Thank you, Harry.” Her hands were folded tight in her lap; her voice was strained but steady. “The President had breakfast a little after eight o’clock, alone. We had house guests and I breakfasted with them earlier. About half-past eight he called to me from the hall that he was going outside to look at the morning and would afterwards return to the library—this room—I understood that he did not intend to go to his office, as he was leaving before twelve for the Capitol and had no appointments. That was the last I heard or saw of him.”
    She swallowed.
    “A little before ten Mr. Brownell telephoned to me. Hesaid that there was something of great importance which he wished to tell the President. He had supposed that the President was in his study, or the library, working on his message to Congress; and he had phoned to those extensions, first the study, then the library, and there had been no answer. He had made inquiries and had concluded that the President was with me, and when I said no, Mr. Brownell was concerned and came at once to see me. We went together to the study and the library, and other places. He went outdoors. He thought we should ask as few questions as possible … I continued the search inside, but I did not find my husband … I knew, gentlemen …”
    She faltered and stopped. After a moment she looked up and nodded at Brownell, who stood beside her. Brownell spoke:
    “I picked up a Secret Service man who was on duty outside. We learned that the President had not been seen to reenter the house, and we found evidence that alarmed us. I consulted Mrs. Stanley. I issued orders that no one was to be permitted to leave or enter the house or grounds on any pretext, without reference to her or to me. I closed the communication with the Executive Offices. Outgoing telephone calls were stopped, and incoming calls were routed to a man I selected. We continued our investigation. The results were meager, but they led definitely to the conclusion Mrs. Stanley has announced to you. The President has been kidnapped.”
    Brownell