arshaw.
Really, I shouldn't be here at all. I came only to help, to put you on
the right trail, to see that Winifred is not detained by force if she
wishes to accompany you. Do you get me?"

"I believe there is good authority for the statement that the law is an
ass," grumbled the other.

"Not the law. Personal liberty has to be safeguarded by the law.
Millions of men have died to uphold that principle. Remember, too, that
I may have to explain in court why I did so-and-so. Strange as it may
sound, I've been taught wisdom by legal adversity. Now, let's talk of
the business in hand. It's an odd thing, but people who wish to do evil
deeds often select secluded country places to live in. I don't mind
betting a box of cigars that 'East Orange' means a quiet, old-fashioned
locality where there isn't a crime once in a generation."

"Some spot one would never suspect, eh?"

"Yes, in a sense. But if ever I set up as a crook--which is unlikely, as
my pension is due in eighteen months--I'll live in a Broadway flat."

"I thought the city police kept a very close eye on evil-doers."

"Yes, when we know them. But your real expert is not known; once held
he's done for. Of course he tries again, but he is a marked man--he has
lost his confidence. Nevertheless, he will always try to be with the
crowd. There is safety in numbers."

"Do you mean that East Orange is a place favorable to our search?"

"Of course it is. The police, the letter-carriers, and the storekeepers,
know everybody. They can tell us at once of several hundred people
who certainly had nothing to do with the abduction of a young lady.
There will remain a few dozens who might possibly be concerned in
such an affair. Inquiry will soon whittle them down to three or four
individuals. What a different job it would be if we had to search a New
York precinct, which, I take it, is about as populous as East Orange."

This was a new point of view to Carshaw, and it cheered him
proportionately. He stepped on the gas, and a traffic policeman at
Forty-second Street and Seventh Avenue cocked an eye at him.

"Steady," laughed Steingall. "It would be a sad blow for mother if we
were held for furious driving. These blessed machines jump from twelve
to forty miles an hour before you can wink twice."

Carshaw abated his ardor. Nevertheless, they were in East Orange forty
minutes after crossing the ferry.

Unhappily, from that hour, the pace slackened. Gateway House had been