a history of
Mershone and his relations with Miss Merrick. The story was not half
told when Fogerty said:

"Tell your man to drive to the police station."

On the way Arthur resumed his rapid recital and strove to post the
young detective as well as he was able. Fogerty made no remarks, nor did
he ask a single question until Weldon had told him everything he could
think of. Then he made a few pointed enquiries and presently they had
arrived at the station.

The desk sergeant bowed with great respect to the youthful detective. By
the dim light Arthur was now able to examine Fogerty for the first time.

He was small, slim and lean. His face attested to but eighteen or
nineteen years, in spite of its deep lines and serious expression.
Although his hair was tangled and unkempt Fogerty's clothing and linen
were neat and of good quality. He wore a Scotch cap and a horseshoe pin
in his cravat.

One might have imagined him to be an errand boy, a clerk, a chauffeur, a
salesman or a house man. You might have placed him in almost any
middle-class walk in life. Perhaps, thought Arthur, he might even be a
good detective! yet his personality scarcely indicated it.

"Mershone in, Billy?" the detective asked the desk sergeant.

"Room 24. Want him?"

"Not now. When is he likely to go?"

"When Parker relieves me. There's been a reg'lar mob here to get
Mershone off. I couldn't prevent his using the telephone; but I'm a
stubborn duck; eh, Quintus? And now the gentleman has gone to bed,
vowing vengeance."

"You're all right, Billy. We both know Mershone. Gentleman scoundrel."

"Exactly. Swell society blackleg."

"What name's he docked under?"

"Smith."

"Will Parker let him off with a fine?"

"Yes, or without it. Parker comes on at six."

"Good. I'll take a nap on that bench. Got to keep the fellow in sight,
Billy."

"Go into my room. There's a cot there."

"Thanks, old man; I will. I'm dead tired."

Then Fogerty took Arthur aside. "Go home and try to sleep," he
advised. "Don't worry. The young lady's safe enough till Mershone goes
to her hiding place. When he does, I'll be there, too, and I'll try to
have you with me."

"Do you think you can arrange it alone, Mr. Fogerty?" asked Arthur,
doubtfully. The boy seemed so very young.

"Better than if I had a hundred to assist me. Why, this is an easy job,
Mr. Weldon. It 'll give me a fine chance to rest up."

"And you won't lose Mershone?"

"Never. He's mine."