managed to
straighten up and rearrange his clothing.

"Will you kindly explain this unlawful act, gentlemen?" he enquired.

The man on the left laughed aloud. He was the same individual who had
attacked Arthur Weldon, the one who had encountered Mershone in the
street the day before.

"Cold day, ain't it, Fogerty?" he remarked. "But that makes it all the
better for a little auto ride. We like you, kid, we're fond of
you--awful fond--ain't we, Pete?"

"We surely are," admitted the other.

"So we thought we'd invite you out for a whirl--see? We'll give you a
nice ride, so you can enjoy the scenery. It's fine out Harlem way, an'
the cold'll make you feel good. Eh, Pete?"

"That's the idea," responded Pete, cheerfully.

"Very kind of you," said the detective, leaning back comfortably against
the cushions and pulling up his coat collar to shield him from the wind.
"But are you aware that I'm on duty, and that this will allow my man to
slip away from me?"

"Can't help that; but we're awful sorry," was the reply. "We just wanted
company, an' you're a good fellow, Fogerty, considerin' your age an'
size."

"Thank you," said Fogerty, "You know me, and I know you. You are Bill
Leesome, alias Will Dutton--usually called Big Bill. You did time a
couple of years ago for knocking out a policeman."

"I'm safe enough now, though," responded Big Bill. "You're not working
on the reg'lar force, Fogerty, you're only a private burr."

"I am protected, just the same," asserted Fogerty. "When you knabbed me
I was shadowing Mershone, who has made away with a prominent society
young lady."

"Oh, he has, has he?" chuckled Big Bill, and his companion laughed so
gleefully that he attracted Fogerty's attention to himself.

"Ah, I suppose you are one of the two men who lugged the girl off," he
remarked; "and I must congratulate you on having made a good job of it.
Isn't it curious, by the way, that the fellow who stole and hid this
girl should be the innocent means of revealing her biding place?"

The two men stared at him blankly. The car, during this conversation,
had moved steadily on, turning this and that corner in a way that might
have confused anyone not perfectly acquainted with this section of the
city.

"What d'ye mean by that talk, Fogerty?" demanded Big Bill.

"Of course it was Mershone who stole the girl," explained the detective,
calmly; "we know that. But Mershone is a clever chap. He knew he was
watched, and so h