ft for
his cruise. So his name can be kept out of it entirely. And the fact
that you helped to save him from paying fifty thousand dollars in
blackmail, will not injure the size of Captain Cronin's bill. Get me?"

"It's got!" laughed Cleary.

Two patrolmen were dumfounded when they reached the spot to find four
men in handcuffs in charge of six armed guardians. The superintendent
explained the situation as laid out by Shirley. The cavalcade took its
way to the East Twenty-first Street Police Station, where the complaint
was filed. Sullen and perplexed about their failure, the men were all
locked in their cells, after their leader had his shoulder dressed by an
interne summoned from the nearby Bellevue Hospital.

Shirley and Cleary returned with the others to the waiting automobile,
after these formalities. The prisoners had been given the customary
opportunity to telephone to friends, but strangely enough did not avail
themselves of it.

"We're cutting down the ranks of the enemy, Cleary," observed the
detective as he lit a cigarette. "But I wonder who it was that escaped
in the water?"

"He'll be next in the net. But say, Mr. Shirley, what percentage do you
get for all this work, I'm awondering?" was the answering query. The
criminologist laughed.

"Thanks, my dear man, simply thanks. That's a rare thing for a
well-to-do man to get since the I.W.W. proved to the world that it's a
crime for a man to own more than ten dollars, or even to earn it! But
I wish you would drop me off about half a block from the Somerset
Apartments, on Fifty-sixth Street. I want to watch for a late arrival."

He waited in the shadows of the houses on the opposite side of the
street. After half an hour he was rewarded by the sight of Mr. Shine
Taylor dismounting from a taxicab. The young gentleman wore a heavy
overcoat over a bedraggled suit. One of his snowy spats was missing;
his hat was dripping, still, from its early immersion. He entered the
building, after a cautious survey of the deserted street, with a stiff
and exhausted gait.

Shirley was satisfied with this new knot in the string. He returned to
his rooms at the club, to gain fresh strength for the trailing on the
morrow. And this time, he felt that he deserved his rest!

Next morning, after his usual plunge and rub-down, he ordered breakfast
in his rooms. He instructed the clerk to send up a Remwood typewriter,
and began his experiments with the code of the diary.

From