“For instance,” he proceeded, “it may interest you to know that we have just planned a new method to recover stolen automobiles and apprehend the thieves.  A census of all cars in the questionable garages of the city has been taken, and each day every policeman is furnished with descriptions of cars stolen in the past twenty-four hours.  The policeman then is supposed to inspect the garages in his district and if he finds a machine that shouldn’t be there, according to the census, he sees to it that it isn’t removed from the place until it is identified.  The description of this Warrington car has gone out with extra special orders, and if it’s in New York I think we’ll find it.”

“I think you’ll find,” remarked Garrick quietly, “that this machine of Warrington’s isn’t in the city, at all.”

“I hardly think it is, myself,” agreed Dillon.  “Whoever it was who took it is probably posted about our new scheme.  That’s not the point I was driving at.  You see, Garrick, our trails cross in these cases in a number of ways.  Now, I have a little secret fund at my disposal.  In so far as the affair involved the murder of that girl—­and I’m convinced that it does—­will you consider that you are working for the city, too?  The whole thing dovetails.  You don’t have to neglect one client to serve another.  I’ll do anything I can to help you with the auto cases.  In fact, you’ll do better by both clients by joining the cases.”

“Dillon,” answered Garrick quickly, “you’ve always been on the level with me.  I can trust you.  Consider that it is a bargain.  We’ll work together.  Now, who was the girl?”

“Her name was Rena Taylor,” replied Dillon, apparently much gratified at the success of his proposal.  “I had her at work getting evidence against a ladies’ poolroom in Forty-seventh Street—­an elusive place that we’ve never been able to ’get right.’”

Garrick shot a quick glance at me.  Evidently we were on the right trail, anyhow.

“I don’t know yet just what happened,” continued Dillon, “but I do know that she had the goods on it.  As nearly as I can find out, a stranger came to the place well introduced, a man, accompanied by a woman.  They got into some of the games.  The man seems to have excused himself.  Apparently he found Rena Taylor alone in a room in some part of the house.  No one heard a pistol shot, but then I think they would lie about that, all right.”

Dillon paused.  “The strange thing is, however,” he resumed, “that we haven’t been able to find in the house a particle of evidence that a murder or violence of any kind has been done.  One fact is established, though, incontrovertibly.  Rena Taylor disappeared from that gambling house the same night and about the same time that Warrington’s car disappeared.  Then we find her dead over in New Jersey.”

“And I find reports and traces that the car has been in the vicinity,” added Garrick.

“You see,” beamed Dillon, “that’s how we work together.  Say you must meet Herman.”