"Yes," answered the low ruffian, "and what's more, Dyke Darrel, the detective, is in Chicago!"
CHAPTER XIX.
THE DETECTIVE FOOLED.
Two men met unexpectedly in one of the hotel corridors of the great city; two hands went out, and
"How are you, Harry?"
"How are you, Dyke, old boy?"
"When did you leave St. Louis?"
This from the detective.
"Not long since. I am confident that our game is in this vicinity. I meant to come down to Woodburg soon, and consult with you. I sent a telegram, but it brought no answer from you."