"I beg your pardon, but would you mind giving me some fire?"
Cummings held out his lighted cigar, at the same time darting a searching look at his questioner, but in the handsome, well-dressed, almost dandified young man before him, he failed to recognize the uncouth, grimacing Scip of Swanson's ranche.
The pair rode along together, and after passing Halsted street some distance, Chip saw that he was getting ready to jump off at the next cross street, so, as soon as the car reached the street, Chip stepped off and walked briskly toward Lake street.
Cummings rode to the other crossing and did the same, utterly without any suspicion whatever.
Although Chip walked straight ahead, he kept his eye on the dark figure moving parallel to his course on the other side, and saw it turn abruptly to the left and enter the alley.
Quickening his steps, Chip hurried to the house in which the watch was kept, and bounding up the steps, to his delight, found Sam in the room.
"Cummings is over there," said Chip, excitedly.
"Sure?"
"As certain as I am that I live."
"Come on, then!" and Sam ran down the steps, followed by Chip and the other two detectives.