"Yes, and he will have good cause."
The lesson was a needful but costly one. Thenceforth when on business we ceased to discuss our feelings and endeavored to use our eyes and ears more, and our tongues less.
We received a cordial welcome from the people at the hotel and gossiped around the corridor for some time. The crowd outside was sullen, but within the atmosphere seemed less strained. We learned that Chief Hallen had made several arrests that afternoon, a measure which had had a sobering effect. The saloons had been warned not to abuse their privileges. Many persons spoke of the work done by Hallen as excellent; indeed, we were both impressed by the fact that the sentiment toward him, of the better citizens, was friendly. Considerable disgust was expressed, however—privately, of course—at the lack of evidence, so far, bearing upon the murder itself. In the course of the evening we managed to see Reilly the porter, and he pointed out several men to us.
"These fellows are new in town—they must be detectives. If they discover things, well and good; but if they don't, the people here won't stand it—they will resent what they call 'outside' work."
"Hallen must have gone in for business," said I.
Reilly grew confidential. "No, it ain't Hallen, they say. There's a lot of talk about some New York man coming up here to run things."
"Who?"
"Oh, they say that Quintus Oakes—you've heard of him, of course—is coming soon, and these are some of his men."
"Indeed!" And Moore and I exchanged glances.