The man chuckled and waved aside the bribe.

“You certainly are, sir; you’re very busy, just now!  But I think the sergeant over at the station will give you some leisure.  And listen, Mr. Mershone:  I’ve got it in for that policeman you fixed; he’s a cheeky individual and a new man.  I’m inclined to think this night’s work will cost him his position.  And the patrol, which I never can get when I want it, seems under your direct management.  These things have got to be explained, and I need your help.  Ready, sir?”

Mershone looked grave, but he was not wholly checkmated.  Thank heaven the bungling detective had missed the departure of Louise altogether.  Charlie’s arrest at this critical juncture was most unfortunate, but need not prove disastrous to his cleverly-laid plot.  He decided it would be best to go quietly with the “plain-clothes man.”

Weldon had become nearly frantic in his demands to be released when Mershone was ushered into the station.  He started at seeing his enemy and began to fear a thousand terrible, indefinite things, knowing how unscrupulous Mershone was.  But the Waldorf detective, who seemed friendly with the police sergeant, made a clear, brief statement of the facts he had observed.  Mershone denied the accusation; the bruiser denied it; the policeman and the driver of the patrol wagon likewise stolidly denied it.  Indeed, they had quite another story to tell.

But the sergeant acted on his own judgment.  He locked up Mershone, refusing bail.  He suspended the policeman and the driver, pending investigation.  Then he released Arthur Weldon on his own recognisance, the young man promising to call and testify when required.

The house detective and Arthur started back to the Waldorf together.

“Did you notice a young lady come to the entrance, soon after I was driven away?” he asked, anxiously.

“A lady in a rose-colored opera cloak, sir?”

“Yes! yes!”

“Why, she got into a brown limousine and rode away.”  Arthur gave a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness that chauffeur had a grain of sense,” said he.  “I wouldn’t have given him credit for it.  Anyway, I’m glad Miss Merrick is safe.”

“Huh!” grunted the detective, stopping short.  “I begin to see this thing in its true light.  How stupid we’ve been!”

“In what way?” enquired Arthur, uneasily.

“Why did Mershone get you arrested, just at that moment?”

“Because he hated me, I suppose.”

“Tell me, could he have any object in spiriting away that young lady—­in abducting her?” asked the detective.

“Could he?” cried Arthur, terrified and trembling.  “He had every object known to villainy.  Come to the hotel!  Let’s hurry, man—­let’s fly!”

CHAPTER XII

FOGERTY

At the Waldorf Arthur’s own limousine was standing by the curb.  The street was nearly deserted.  The last of the Kermess people had gone home.