"Strange!" muttered the officer.
"He doubtless went out the side door," and Billy Bowlegs pointed to a narrow door at the side of the room.
"Possibly."
The officer was not the brightest member of the force, and believing that he had been sold by the old man who had pretended to be a detective, the guardian of the night returned to the bar-room, partook or another horn of brandy, and then passed out upon the street.
"Sold!" he muttered, angrily, as he strode from the dangerous vicinity.
Meantime what had occurred to detain Silas Keene so long?
CHAPTER XI.
ENTRAPPED!
When Silas Keene, the New York detective, entered the bar-room, his glances met no familiar face. The tramp had been thoroughly described to Keene, so that he felt that he should know the fellow the moment his glances fell upon him.
The detective did not know that his man was on the lookout for him.