“The old lady will have her wish,” he replied grimly as I related the incident of the letter to the editor.  “I wonder just how much she really does know of that place.  I hope it isn’t enough to set her against Warrington.  You know people like that are often likely to conceive violent prejudices—­and then refuse to believe something that’s all but proved about someone else.”

There was no time to pursue the subject further for we had reached Dillon’s office and were admitted immediately.

“What’s the news?” asked Dillon greeting us cordially.

“Plenty of it,” returned Garrick, hastily sketching over what had transpired since we had seen him last.

Garrick had scarcely begun to outline what he intended to do when I could see from the commissioner’s face that he was very sceptical of success.

“Herman tells me,” he objected, “that the place is mighty well barricaded.  We haven’t tried raiding it yet, because you know the new plan is not only to raid those places, but first to watch them, trace out some of the regular habitues, and then to be able to rope them in in case we need them as evidence.  Herman has been getting that all in shape so that when the case comes to trial, there’ll be no slip-up.”

“If that’s all you want, I can put my finger on some of the wildest scions of wealth that you will ever need for witnesses,” Garrick replied confidently.

“Well,” pursued Dillon diffidently, “how are you going to pull it off, down through the sky-light, or up through the cellar?”

“Oh, Dillon,” returned Garrick reproachfully, “that’s unworthy of you.”

“But, Garrick,” persisted Dillon, “don’t you know that it is a veritable National City Bank for protection.  It isn’t one of those common gambling joints.  It’s proof against all the old methods.  Axes and sledgehammers would make no impression there.  Why, that place has been proved bomb-proof—­bomb-proof, sir.  You remember recently the so-call ‘gamblers’ war’ in which some rivals exploded a bomb on the steps because the proprietor of this place resented their intrusion uptown from the lower East Side, with their gunmen and lobbygows?  It did more damage to the house next door than to the gambling joint.”

Dillon paused a moment to enumerate the difficulties.  “You can get past the outside door all right.  But inside is the famous ice-box door.  It’s no use to try it at all unless you can pass that door with reasonable quickness.  All the evidence you will get will be of an innocent social club room downstairs.  And you can’t get on the other side of that door by strategy, either.  It is strategy-proof.  The system of lookouts is perfect.  Herman—–­”

“Can’t help it,” interrupted Garrick, “we’ve got to go over Herman’s head this time.  I’ll guarantee you all the evidence you’ll ever need.”

Dillon and Garrick faced each other for a moment.

It was a supreme test of Dillon’s sincerity.