“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.”

“This is very important to me, sir,” continued Arthur, nervously.

“Yes; and to others.  Most of all it’s important to Fogerty.  Don’t worry, sir.”

The young man was forced to go away with this assurance.  He returned home, but not to sleep.  He wondered vaguely if he had been wise to lean upon so frail a reed as Fogerty seemed to be; and above all he wondered where poor Louise was, and if terror and alarm were breaking her heart.

CHAPTER XIII

DIANA REVOLTS

Charlie Mershone had no difficulty in securing his release when Parker came on duty at six o’clock.  He called up a cab and went at once to his rooms at the Bruxtelle; and Fogerty followed him.

While he discarded his dress-coat, took a bath and donned his walking suit Mershone was in a brown study.  Hours ago Louise had been safely landed at the East Orange house and placed in the care of old Madame Cerise, who would guard her like an ogre.  There was no immediate need of his hastening after her, and his arrest and the discovery of half his plot had seriously disturbed him.  This young man was no novice in intrigue, nor even in crime.  Arguing from his own stand-point he realized that the friends of Louise were by this time using every endeavor to locate her.  They would not succeed in this, he was positive.  His plot had been so audacious and all clews so cleverly destroyed or covered up that the most skillful detective, knowing he had abducted the girl; would be completely baffled in an attempt to find her.