am of the
headlights low, then they were on their way.

* * * * *

Hickory Street was a fast three-minute run from the police station.

"Nothing but warehouses," Scott said. "We're a big trans-shipment
center."

The narrow, one-way streets and the broad-shouldered bulk of the big
buildings emphasized what the chief had said. The railroads and the
rivers were still the most economical way to ship the space-taking
stuff, coal, steel, grain. Harrisburg was a crossroads where the
east-west and north-south main lines met, with a natural growth of the
long warehouses at the intersection.

Scott spun the driver's wheel to the left and cut the car lights.
"Hickory Street."

It is a lonely place at night, Bennington decided.

Thornberry leaned forward from the back seat of the car, leaned
forward so far between Scott and Mosby that his thin nose almost
touched the front window.

"Ideal, ideal, just the way Clarens would be thinking."

"Thank God we found Judkins," Mosby said, "but say, that reminds me.
Why didn't he take the first plane or train out of town? He had plenty
of time before we knew we wanted him."

Thornberry pulled himself back, re-condensed his lean frame in the
left corner of the back seat. "He was waiting for Senator Giles to pay
him off and tell him where to hide out."

Chief Scott idled his car to a halt beside another dark-blue sedan
almost invisible in the shadowed street.

A figure loomed large in the shadows, came forward and identified
itself.

"Patrolman Whelton, sir, and Sergeant Kerr is in the back."

Somehow Scott managed to return the salute while at the same time
disentangling himself from his seat-belt and from behind the driver's
wheel.

"What did you spot?"

"According to orders, we were riding the alleys and we saw that the
window had been broken since our last inspection."

They were in a tight group around the young patrolman because Whelton
had spoken in a soft, church-going whisper. Now Mosby walked away from
the group, thoughtfully fingering the ivory-handled butts of his
revolvers, but returning to the group when Scott began speaking.

"Thanks, General Mosby. They couldn't have checked the alleys as often
as they did without your men helping out on the streets. This way, we
caught it fast."

[Illustration]

"Sir, we can't find the watchman for this area," and Patrolman Whelton
was very worried.

"Watchman?" Mosby asked.

"Fire-