It was easier now to follow the car since it had worked its way into lower Fifth Avenue.  On uptown it went.  We hung on doggedly in the mass of traffic going north at this congested hour.

At last it turned into Forty-seventh Street.  It was stopping at the ladies’ gambling joint, apparently to confirm the news.  I had thought that the place was closed, until the present trouble blew over, but it seemed that there must be someone there.  The Boss was evidently well known, for he was immediately admitted.

Garrick did not stop.  He kept on around the corner to the raided poolroom on the next street.  Dillon’s man, who had been stationed there to watch the place, bowed and admitted him.

“I’m going to throw it into him good, this time,” remarked Garrick, as he entered.  “I’ve been planning this stunt for an emergency—­and it’s here.  Now for the big scare!”

CHAPTER XX

THE SPEAKING ARC

“Looks pretty deserted here,” remarked Garrick to Dillon’s man, who had accompanied us from the door into the now deserted gambling den.

“Yes,” he grinned, “there’s not much use in keeping me here since they took all the stuff to headquarters.  Now and then one of the old rounders who has been out of town and hasn’t heard of the raid comes in.  You should see their faces change when they catch sight of my uniform.  They never stop to ask questions,” he chuckled.  “They just beat it.”

I was wondering how the police regarded Garrick’s part in the matter, and while Garrick was busy I asked, “Have you seen Inspector Herman lately?”

The man laughed.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, “Is he sore at having the raid pulled off over his head?”

“Sore?” the roundsman repeated, “Oh, not a bit, not a bit.  He enjoyed it.  It gave him so much credit,” the man added sarcastically, “especially after he fell down in getting the evidence against that other place around the corner.”

“Was that his case, too?” I asked.

“Sure,” replied the policeman.  “Didn’t you know that?  That Rena Taylor was working under his orders when she was killed.  They tell me at headquarters he’s working overtime on the case and other things connected with it.  He hasn’t said much, but there’s someone he is after—­I know.  Mark my words.  Herman is always most dangerous when he’s quiet.  The other day he was in here, said there was a man who used to be seen here a good deal in the palmy days, who had disappeared.  I don’t know who he was, but Herman asked me to keep a particular lookout to see if he came back for any purpose.  There’s someone he suspects, all right.”

I wondered why the man told me.  He must have seen, by the look on my face, that I was thinking that.

“I wouldn’t tell it to everybody,” he added confidentially, “only, most of us don’t like Herman any too well.  He’s always trying to hog it all—­gets all the credit if we pick up a clew, and,—­well, most of us wouldn’t be exactly disappointed to see Mr. Garrick succeed—­that’s all.”