“What do you mean?  Drop that club.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m the man you’re looking for, Johnny.”

“The man I’m looking for?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Vance.”

“Oh, go ’long!” exclaimed the ruffian, in a derisive tone.

“I’m your man!  Now, what information have you got for me?”

“You can’t play me,” said the fellow.

“No; nor can you play me.  Listen:  how much are you to get for laying me out?”

The man turned pale and made no answer; he glanced backward; it was evident he had reached the conclusion that it was time for him to leave.

“Don’t think of going, Johnny, I want you to answer my question.”

“You are not Vance.”

“I’ll play Vance for you, so sling out your game, Johnny.”

The man took a step back.

“Stand where you are,” came the command, “or I’ll make you.”

“Are you really Vance?”

“Come up to Ludlow Street, and I’ll prove who I am.”

“I ain’t going that way.”

“Oh yes, you are; you’ve run right into my grip, and I’m going to shut you in with the rest of them, unless—­”

The detective stopped.

“Unless what?”

“Unless you open up and tell me the whole story.”

The fellow had a wicked eye.  He saw that he had run into a snap, and he was determined to take a desperate chance to get out of it.

“I’m in for it,” he remarked.

The detective had been watching the varying changes of expression upon the man’s face, and dropped to the fact that the fellow contemplated some desperate expedient.

“I reckon, old man, the best thing for you to do is to own up, make a clean breast of it.”

“Are you really Vance, or have I run against some other Government dandy?”

“I am Vance.”

“I wish I were sure, old man, and I’d put you on the biggest lay of your life.”

“You’re safe to give me any information you possess.”

“But if I let on to you I want to make sure of my rake in.”

“About as sure as I am for the fifty dollars.”

The man laughed, and said: 

“Well, this is a nice joke all round.”

“Yes, a nice joke,” repeated the detective in a peculiarly significant tone.

“But,” said the man.  “I have some valuable information for Vance.”

“And so have I some valuable information for you, Mister Man, and now throw up your hands.”

“You are not in earnest,” said the man, and he approached a step nearer.

“You will find out I am in earnest.”

“Do you really intend to take me to Ludlow Street?”

“I do.”

“Not to-night,” exclaimed the man, and he sprung upon the detective, but he might as well have leaped head first at a hornet’s nest.

The detective was ready for the man, and he brought him to his knees upon the grass, and an instant later the darbies were on him.