hat a
great many children dress alike in these days when clothing is bought
ready-made."

The detective looked at him shrewdly and turned to his companion.

"Get a carriage, Dan--that is, if this gentleman is prepared to pay
for it."

"Certainly," was the reply. "And may I ask what the charge against
me is?"

"I should suppose you might have guessed it by this time," answered the
detective, with so much less respect in his manner that it was quite
evident that he did not believe his prisoner as innocent as he would
have it appear. "The charge against you isn't made yet, but I arrested
you on suspicion of being implicated in the kidnapping of a little boy
named Reginald Thorpe Thorne, and I shall take you to headquarters on
that suspicion."

Andy was sure he saw a slight change in the man's features at the tone
in which the words were uttered, and it was plain to him that the
coincidence of the little boy in his company being dressed exactly as
Regy had been dressed, had made an impression on the detective.

The latter turned to him.

"You will have to go with us too. What is your name?"

"Andrew Fletcher."

"You will find his father's name on the register at Sing Sing," said the
man who had, as Andy believed, done so much to put it there.

Andy flashed an indignant glance at him, but paid no other attention
to him.

"Must I go with you?" he asked of the detective.

"Yes."

"Will you leave somebody here to watch the steamer, just the same?"
questioned Andy, anxiously.

"Don't worry about that, my lad. The steamer shall be watched."

"Will I be kept long?"

"I can't tell. Depends on what the inspector says."

It seemed to Andy that all his chances of earning the reward were gone;
but there was just a glimmering of hope left, and he was determined not
to part with a certain secret he had until he was certain that Regy was
found.

The secret was a small thing, and yet it might be the key to success. It
was this: Andy had made no effort to connect the two speakers he had
overheard while he was working in the onions with any one he knew, until
as he stood there in the wharf office confronted with the man who had
tried so hard to injure him, and who seemed in some singular way
connected with the kidnapping of Regy Thorne.

Then it came to him like a flash, that his was the voice he had heard
saying to the other man the words about being at the Arizona at five in
the morning.

It was certain to him