Then here is
the dictagraph, under the desk."

Burke pointed out the small transmitting disc to the surprised captain.

"Well, this man learned a lot from the detectives and applied it to his
trade very scientifically, didn't he?"

"Yes, the records we have on the phonograph show that every word which
passed in this room was received upstairs by Trubus. No one but Clemm
knew of his connection or ownership of the establishment. Yet Trubus,
all the time that he was posing as the guardian angel of virtue, has
been familiar with the work of every procurer and every purchaser; it's
a wonderful system. If he had spent as much energy on doing the
charitable work that he pretended to do, think of how much misery and
sickness he could have cured."

"Well, Burke, it's the same game that a lot of politicians on the East
Side do. They own big interests and the gambling privileges in the
saloons, and they get their graft from the gangsters. Then about twice
a year they give a picnic for the mothers and babies of the drunkards
who patronize their saloons. They send a ticket for a bucket of coal
or a pair of shoes to the parents of young girls who work for the
gangsters and bring the profits of shame back tenfold on the investment
to these same politicians. They will spend a hundred dollars on
charity and the newspapers will run columns about it. But the poor
devils who cheer them and vote for them don't realize that every dollar
of graft comes, not out of the pockets of property owners and
employers, but from reduced wages, increased rents, and expensive,
rotten food. Trubus would have been a great Alderman or State Senator:
he wasted his talents on religion."

Burke turned to the door.

"Shall I go up to his house, Captain? I'd like to be in at the finish
of this whole fight."

"You bet you can," said Sawyer. "It's now nearly six o'clock, and we
will jump into the machine and get up there before he can get out to
supper. The men will take care of these prisoners."

After a few skillful orders, Sawyer led the way downstairs. They were
soon speeding up to the Riverside Drive residence of the
philanthropist, Sawyer and Burke enjoying the machine to themselves.

"This is a joy ride that will not be so joyful for one man on the
return trip, Burke!" exclaimed Sawyer, as he took off his cap to mop
the perspiration from his brow. He had been through a strenuous
afternoon and was beginning to feel the strain.

"Ho