“I need it, Mr. Mershone,” replied the man, grinning.

“There’s a detective following me; he’s down the street there—­a mere boy—­just in front of that tobacco store.  See him?”

“Sure I see him.  It’s Fogerty.”

“His name is Riordan.”

“No; it’s Fogerty.  He’s no boy, sir, but the slickest ‘tec’ in the city, an’ that’s goin’ some, I can tell you.”

“Well, you must get him, whoever he is.  Drag him away and hold him for three hours—­two—­one.  Give me a chance to slip him; that’s all.  Can you do it?  I’ll pay you a hundred for the job.”

“It’s worth two hundred, Mr. Mershone.  It isn’t safe to fool with Fogerty.”

“I’ll make it two hundred.”

“Then rest easy,” said the man.  “I know the guy, and how to handle him.  You just watch him like he’s watching you, Mr. Mershone, and if anything happens you skip as lively as a flea.  I can use that two hundred in my business.”

Then the fellow passed on, and Fogerty was still so far distant up the street that neither of them could see the amused smile upon his thin face.

CHAPTER XV

A BEWILDERING EXPERIENCE

When Louise Merrick entered the brown limousine, which she naturally supposed to belong to Arthur Weldon, she had not the faintest suspicion of any evil in her mind.  Indeed, the girl was very happy this especial evening, although tired with her duties at the Kermess.  A climax in her young life had arrived, and she greeted it joyously, believing she loved Arthur well enough to become his wife.

Now that the engagement had been announced to their immediate circle of friends she felt as proud and elated as any young girl has a right to be under the circumstances.

Added to this pleasant event was the social triumph she and her cousins had enjoyed at the Kermess, where Louise especially had met with rare favor.  The fashionable world had united in being most kind and considerate to the dainty, attractive young debutante, and only Diana had seemed to slight her.  This was not surprising in view of the fact that Diana evidently wanted Arthur for herself, and there was some satisfaction in winning a lover who was elsewhere in prime demand.  In addition to all this the little dance that concluded the evening’s entertainment had been quite delightful, and all things conspired to put Louise in a very contented frame of mind.  Still fluttering with the innocent excitements of the hour the girl went to join Arthur without a fear of impending misfortune.  She did not think of Charlie Mershone at all.  He had been annoying and impertinent, and she had rebuked him and sent him away, cutting him out of her life altogether.  Perhaps she ought to have remembered that she had mildly flirted with Diana’s cousin and given him opportunity for the impassioned speeches she resented; but Louise had a girlish idea that there was no harm in flirting, considering it a feminine license.  She saw young Mershone at the Kermess that evening paying indifferent attentions to other women and ignoring her, and was sincerely glad to have done with him for good and all.