“I know there is,” replied Larry quickly.  “That’s why I’m working so hard to clear up the mystery.  I want to find out what your part is in the disappearance of Mr. Potter.”

“My part?  What do you mean?”

“You know well enough what I mean.  You are interested in Mr. Potter.  You want him to come back.  Now what for?  Has it anything to do with the new line?  Does it concern your friends, Kilburn and Reilly?  That’s what I want to know and what I’m going to find out.  You’re playing a deep game, Mr. Sullivan, but I’ll beat you at it!”

Larry was quite surprised at his own eloquence, and the manner in which he bid defiance to the leader of the assembly district.

“Hush!” exclaimed the politician.  “If you say another word I’ll knock you down!” and he advanced toward Larry as though he intended to carry the threat into execution.  “Keep quiet, I say!”

“Are you afraid of having the truth told?” asked Larry speaking a little louder.  It seemed that Sullivan was worried lest some one might overhear the talk.  The streets, however, were deserted at this time.

“Never you mind!” retorted Sullivan.  “You’ve said enough, so that I’ll not forget it in a hurry, and Jack Sullivan is a bad man to have for an enemy, let me tell you.”

“I don’t doubt that, but I’m not afraid of you.  I believe you know something of Mr. Potter’s disappearance, and I’m going to find out what it is.  You are waiting here with some object in view, and I’m going to discover it.”

“Get away from here!” ordered Sullivan, hardly able to speak because of his anger.

“I’m going to stay as long as I like.”

“Move on!” exclaimed the politician.  “Get away or——­”

He emerged from the shadow and approached Larry.  The man’s face showed how wrought up he was, and though he was not much taller or stronger than Larry he had a man’s energy, and would prove more than a match for the lad if it came to a fight.  And it looked now as though he was going to resort to desperate measures in order to accomplish his ends.

“I’m going to stay until I see what you’re up to!” said Larry firmly, bracing himself to meet the expected attack.

Sullivan doubled up his fists and drew nearer to the youth.  He raised his arm, as though to strike.  The two were beyond the shadow of the tree now, and in plain view.

Sullivan’s fist shot out, but Larry was watching and cleverly dodged it.  The politician overreached himself, lost his balance, and, his fist meeting nothing more solid than air, he pitched forward and fell on the sidewalk.

Larry swung around, ready to meet his opponent when he should come back to the attack.  At that instant a window, in a house across the street, opened, and a voice the young reporter knew was Grace’s called: 

“Larry!  Larry!  Come here!”

He started to run across the thoroughfare, but, as he did so, he saw another man emerge from behind a tree, next to the one where Sullivan had been concealed.  And, as the light from an arc lamp gleamed on this man’s face, Larry saw it was that of Mah Retto.