Part 10 (1/2)

”I do,” hastened Garrick. ”Of course I do. And it may prove to be a very important clew. But I was just running ahead of your story. The undersized man couldn't have figured in the case afterward, a.s.suming that it was the car. He must have left it, probably in the city. Have you any idea who it could be?”

”Not unless he might be an employee or a keeper of one of those night-hawk garages,” persisted McBirney. ”That is possible.”

”Quite,” agreed Garrick.

McBirney had delivered his own news and in turn had received ours, or at least such of it as Garrick chose to tell at present. He was apparently satisfied and rose to go.

”Keep after that undersized fellow, will you?” asked Garrick. ”If you could find out who he is and he should happen to be connected with one of those garages we might get on the right trail at last.”

”I will,” promised McBirney. ”He's evidently an expert driver of motor cars himself; my man could see that.”

McBirney had gone. Garrick sat for several minutes gazing squarely at me. Then he leaned back in his chair, with his hands behind his head.

”Mark my words, Marshall,” he observed slowly, ”someone connected with that gambling joint in some way has got wind of the fact that Warrington is going to revoke the lease and close it up. We've got to beat them to it--that's all.”

CHAPTER IX

THE RAID

Garrick was evidently turning over and over in his mind some plan of action.

”This thing has gone just about far enough,” he remarked meditatively, looking at his watch. It was now well along in the afternoon.

”But what do you intend doing?” I asked, regarding the whole affair so far as a hopeless mystery from which I could not see that we had extracted so much as a promising clew.

”Doing?” he echoed. ”Why, there is only one thing to do, and that is to take the bull by the horns, to play the game without any further attempt at finessing. I shall see Dillon, get a warrant, and raid that gambling place--that's all.”

I had no counter suggestion to offer. In fact the plan rather appealed to me. If any blow were to be struck it must be just a little bit ahead of any that the gamblers antic.i.p.ated, and this was a blow they would not expect if they already had wind of Warrington's intention to cancel the lease.

Garrick called up Dillon and made an appointment to meet him early in the evening, without telling him what was afoot.

”Meet me down at police headquarters, Tom,” was all that Garrick said to me. ”I want to work here at the office for a little while, first, testing a new contrivance, or, rather, an old one that I think may be put to a new use.”

Meanwhile I decided to employ my time by visiting some newspaper friends that I had known a long time on the Star, one of the most enterprising papers in the city. Fortunately I found my friend, Davenport, the managing editor, at his desk and ready to talk in the infrequent lulls that came in his work.

”What's on your mind, Marshall?” he asked as I sat down and began to wonder how he ever conducted his work in the chaotic clutter of stuff on the top of his desk.

”I can't tell you--yet, Davenport,” I explained carefully, ”but it's a big story and when it breaks I'll promise that the Star has the first chance at it. I'm on the inside--working with that young detective, Garrick, you know.”

”Garrick--Garrick,” he repeated. ”Oh, yes, that fellow who came back from abroad with a lot of queer ideas. I remember. We had an interview with him when he left the steamer. Good stuff, too,--but what do you think of him? Is he--on the level?”

”On the level and making good,” I answered confidently. ”I'm not at liberty to tell much about it now, but--well, the reason I came in was to find out what you could tell me about a Miss Winslow,--Violet Winslow and her aunt, Mrs. Beekman de Lancey.”

”The Miss Winslow who is reported engaged to young Warrington?” he repeated. ”The gossip is that he has cut out Angus Forbes, entirely.”

I had hesitated to mention all the names at once, but I need not have done so, for on such things, particularly the fortunes in finance and love of such a person as Warrington, the eyes of the press were all-seeing.

”Yes,” I answered carefully, ”that's the Miss Winslow. What do you know of her?”