“This guy wants to see you personally, sir; he wouldn’t talk to no one else.”

“All right, Slavin; shut the door, and I’ll hear what he has to say.  What is it, my man?”

West explained swiftly and clearly, his manner of speech, as well as his statement as to who he was, evidently making a favourable impression on his listener, who interrupted the brief narrative with several respectfully asked questions.  He look the note, spread it out on the desk, and studied it carefully.

“Looks genuine enough,” he commented at last, “but not very clear.  I don’t know any place in this town called Seminole.  Wait a minute though; perhaps one of the boys may have an idea.”

He pressed a button on top of the desk, and in response to the summons, a side door opened, and a main in plain clothes entered.

“You rang, sir?”

“Yes, McAdams; this gentleman here—­”

“Captain West, as I am a sinner!” he exclaimed.  “Gee! but I am glad to see you again, old man!  Say.  By Gad! you don’t remember me.”

“Oh, but I certainly do, Mac,” and West grasped the extended hand heartily.  “It’s a devil of a surprise, that’s all.  Saw you last at Brest, the day you sailed for home.  So this was your job, Sergeant?”

“Been with the department ever since I was a kid.  Put me in plain clothes since I came back.  Lieutenant, this is Captain West, over across the pond with the Engineers; we were buddies for about two months.  What was wanted, sir?”

“Well, Captain West has just been telling me a rather peculiar story, and wanted some information I thought perhaps you could give; you know the old town right now better than I do.  First of all, do you recall any crook by the name of Hobart—­Jim Hobart?”

“Hobart?  Hobart? no, not off hand, I don’t.  How old a man is he, Captain?”

“Middle-aged, anyway; an active fellow enough, but his hair is quite grey.”

“Do you know where he hangs out?”

“The last I saw of him was in a saloon known as Mike’s Place over on Wray Street.”

“Off Milwaukee; yes, I know.  Mike is a big Pole, but has never had any serious trouble so far as I know.  However, being there is no special recommendation to a guy, but I don’t believe this man Hobart has been pulled since I’ve been on the force.  And you don’t recall the name, Lieutenant?”

“No; but he might be an old timer come back.  Look him up in the index, Mac.  That will soon tell you whether we have got any such mug, or not.”

McAdams drew out a thick volume from a near-by cabinet, and ran his fingers swiftly down a long column of names, indexed under the letter “H.”  Suddenly he stopped, with an exclamation.

“The lad is here all right—­Government offence, fifteen years ago, third arrest; mugged number 28113.  Let’s look him up, and see if he is the same man.  Come over here, Captain.”

“Is that the fellow?” he asked.