Mr. Leonard was at once sent for, as also the members of the firm of Brown and Felger. They had been on the alert, and were at the station-house before seven o’clock.
“Have you any witnesses whom you desire to present before we hear these prisoners?” asked the police magistrate in attendance.
“Here is my principal witness,” said Mr. Leonard, as Will came in with his usual easy swagger. “The officers who made these arrests are also important witnesses. I would like to have Mr. Wilson here, if we have time to send for him.”
“I have thought of that,” said the alderman, smiling. “Mr. Wilson will be here. Officer, bring up the prisoners.”
In a few minutes the four men so lately captured were ushered into the room.
“Mr. Wilson!” cried Mr. Leonard, in utter astonishment, as he gazed on the pallid face of his confidential clerk, foremost among the prisoners.
“Jesse Powers!” cried Messrs. Brown and Felger, in a breath, and with equal astonishment.
“Black-eyed Joe, the grog-shop keeper, and Tom Quinn, one of the worst burglars in town,” cried Will. “It’s a pretty good haul.”
“But what does this mean?” asked the merchant, in a breath. “There is some mistake here.”
“There isn’t as much mistake about it as you could cover with your little finger,” said Will, pointing to the shrinking figures of the prisoners. “I could have told you three weeks ago that Gus Wilson was the man who was goin’ through you. I have these other chaps nailed, too. There’s more of the party yet.”