"Because she didn't go there."

"Where did she go, then?" Gilder queried wholly at a loss.

Once again the officer chuckled. It was evident that he was well pleased
with his own ingenuity.

"Nowhere yet," he said at last. "But, just about the time he's starting
for the West I'll have her down at Headquarters. Demarest will have
her indicted before noon. She'll go for trial in the afternoon. And
to-morrow night she'll be sleeping up the river.... That's where she is
going."

Gilder stood motionless for a moment. After all, he was an ordinary
citizen, quite unfamiliar with the recondite methods familiar to the
police.

"But," he said, wonderingly, "you can't do that."

The Inspector laughed, a laugh of disingenuous amusement, for he
understood perfectly the lack of comprehension on the part of his
hearer.

"Well," he said, and his voice sank into a modest rumble that was
none the less still thunderous. "Perhaps I can't!" And then he beamed
broadly, his whole face smiling blandly on the man who doubted his
power. "Perhaps I can't," he repeated. Then the chuckle came again, and
he added emphatically: "But I will!" Suddenly, his heavy face grew hard.
His alert eyes shone fiercely, with a flash of fire that was known
to every patrolman who had ever reported to the desk when he was
lieutenant. His heavy jaw shot forward aggressively as he spoke.

"Think I'm going to let that girl make a joke of the Police Department?
Why, I'm here to get her--to stop her anyhow. Her gang is going to break
into your house to-night."

"What?" Gilder demanded. "You mean, she's coming here as a thief?"

"Not exactly," Inspector Burke confessed, "but her pals are coming to
try to pull off something right here. She wouldn't come, not if I
know her. She's too clever for that. Why, if she knew what Garson was
planning to do, she'd stop him."

The Inspector paused suddenly. For a long minute his face was seamed
with thought. Then, he smote his thigh with a blow strong enough to kill
an ox. His face was radiant.

"By God! I've got her!" he cried. The inspiration for which he had
longed was his at last. He went to the desk where the telephone was, and
took up the receiver.

"Give me 3100 Spring," he said. As he waited for the connection he
smiled widely on the astonished Gilder. "'Tain't too late," he said
joyously. "I must have been losing my mind not to have thought of it
before." The impact of sounds on his ear from the receiver se