m into a trap, of all baits they might use the promise to tell him who
killed Banf was the one certain to attract him. It made their invitation
to walk into the parlor almost too obvious. But were the offer not
genuine, there was a condition attached to it that puzzled him. It was
not the condition that stipulated he should come alone. His experience
had taught him many will confess, or betray, to the district attorney
who, to a deputy, will tell nothing. The condition that puzzled him was
the one that insisted he should come at once or it would be "too late."

Why was haste so imperative? Why, if he delayed, would he be "too late"?
Was the man he sought about to escape from his jurisdiction, was he
dying, and was it his wish to make a death-bed confession; or was he so
reluctant to speak that delay might cause him to reconsider and remain
silent?

With these questions in his mind, the minutes quickly passed, and it was
with a thrill of excitement Wharton saw that Nolan had left the
Zoological Gardens on the right and turned into the Boston Road. It had
but lately been completed and to Wharton was unfamiliar. On either side
of the unscarred roadway still lay scattered the uprooted trees and
bowlders that had blocked its progress, and abandoned by the contractors
were empty tar-barrels, cement-sacks, tool-sheds, and forges. Nor was
the surrounding landscape less raw and unlovely. Toward the Sound
stretched vacant lots covered with ash heaps; to the left a few old and
broken houses set among the glass-covered cold frames of truck-farms.

The district attorney felt a sudden twinge of loneliness. And when an
automobile sign told him he was "10 miles from Columbus Circle," he felt
that from the New York he knew he was much farther. Two miles up the
road his car overhauled a bicycle policeman, and Wharton halted him.

"Is there a road-house called Kessler's beyond here?" he asked.

"On the left, farther up," the officer told him, and added: "You can't
miss it, Mr. Wharton; there's no other house near it."

"You know me," said the D.A. "Then you'll understand what I want you to
do. I've agreed to go to that house alone. If they see you pass they may
think I'm not playing fair. So stop here."

The man nodded and dismounted.

"But," added the district attorney, as the car started forward again,
"if you hear shots, I don't care how fast you come."

The officer grinned.

"Better let me trail along now," he called; "that'