“I paid all I agreed to.”

“Can’t say anything about that.  But ’tain’t enough.”  He glared at me.  “Holtzmann said he’d pay me a hundred dollars.  Yes, sir, ten times as much as you.”

“When de you see Holtzmann?” I cried, in great interest.

“Saw him about half an hour ago.  He came to see me—­ came to see Sammy Simpson—­ climbed the stairs to my abode.  Wanted the papers—­ said I must have ’em.  Went wild with rage when I let slip you had ’em.  So did the other gent.”

“Who?  Mr. Woodward?”

“That’s the identical name.  Yes, sir—­ the correct handle.  And they wanted the papers.  Offered a hundred dollars for ’em.  Think of it.  Here’s the ten dollars—­ give ’em back.”

Had Sammy Simpson been sober he would not have made such a simple proposition.

“No, sir,” I replied decidedly.  “A bargain’s a bargain.  I’ve got the papers, and I intend to keep them.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What’s that?” broke in the sergeant of police.

“I want those papers.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“No, and don’t care.”

“I am sergeant of police, and I want you to behave yourself, or I’ll run you in,” was the decided reply.

At the mention of an officer Sammy Simpson grew pale.

“No, no, don’t do that.  I’ve never been arrested in my life.”

“The papers are in the hands of the proper parties,” went on the sergeant.

“Then I can’t have ’em back?”

“No; and the less you have to do with the whole matter, the better off you’ll be.  Where has Holtzmann gone?”

“To Brooklyn.”

I was astonished.  To Brooklyn, and so soon!

“You are sure?” I queried.

“Yes; he and the other gent intended to take the first train.”

Here was indeed news.  This sudden and unexpected departure must portend something of importance.

“We must catch them!” I exclaimed.

“Do you know anything about the trains?” asked Mr. Harrison.

“No.”

“Jump in, and we’ll be off to the depot,” said the sergeant.

In an instant we had started, leaving Sammy Simpson standing in the middle of the pavement too astonished to speak.  It was the last I ever saw of the man.

We made the driver urge his horse at the top of his speed.  I calculated that the pair would take the same line that had brought me to Chicago.

I was not mistaken; for when we reached the depot a few questions put by the sergeant revealed the fact that the two men had purchased tickets for New York but a minute before.

“And when does the train leave?” I asked.

“Her time’s up now.”

At that instant a bell rang.

“There’s the bell.”

“We must catch her,” I cried, and ran though the gate and on to the platform.

But the train was already moving.  I tried to catch her, but failed; and a minute later the cars rolled out of sight.