suite at nine o'clock prepared to play his part at once in the
big proposition that had just developed, and that he should get word to
Old Jimmie to follow him in a few minutes.

Within fifteen minutes a taxicab had whirled her down to Police
Headquarters and she was in the office where three months earlier Larry
had been grilled after his refusal of the license to steal and cheat on
the condition that he become a police stool. Barlow, who was alone in
the room, looked up with a scowl from a secret report he had secured of
the activities of detectives in the District Attorney's office. Although
Maggie was pretty and stylishly dressed, Barlow did not rise nor did he
remove the big cigar he had been viciously gnawing. It is the tradition
of the Police Department, the most thoroughly respected article of its
religion, that a woman who is seen in Police Headquarters cannot by any
possibility be a lady.

"Well, what's on your chest?" he grunted, not even asking her to be
seated.

It was suddenly Maggie's impulse--sprung perhaps out of unconscious
memory of what Larry had suffered--to inflict upon herself the uttermost
humiliation. So she said:

"I've come here to offer myself as a stool-pigeon."

"What's that?" Barlow exclaimed, startled. It was not often that a swell
lady--who of course couldn't be a swell (he did not know who Maggie
was)--voluntarily walked into his office with such a proposition.

"I can give you some real information about a big game that's being
worked up. In fact, I can arrange for you to be present when the game is
pulled off, and you can make the arrests."

"Who are the people?" he asked brusquely.

Maggie knew it would be fatal to mention Barney or Old Jimmie, if that
story about Barlow's protection contained any truth. Again inspiration,
or incredibly swift thinking, came to her aid, and with sure touch she
twanged one of Barlow's rawest and most responsive nerves.

"Larry Brainard is behind it all. He's been doing a lot of things on the
quiet these last few months. Here is where you can get his whole crowd."

"Larry Brainard!"

Maggie did not yet know what had befallen Larry, and Gavegan had
neglected to telephone his Chief of the arrest. Even had Gavegan done
so, the large and vague manner in which Maggie had stated the situation
would have stirred Barlow's curiosity.

"All right. I'll put a couple of my good men on the case. Where shall I
send 'em?"

"A couple of your good men w