"I remember that case—it was reported to here from New York some time ago. The pawnshops were ransacked for the jewelry and the watch, but nothing was found. So you are certain you would recognize the man again if you saw him?"
"I am—unless he altered his appearance a good deal. He had a small, dark moustache, but otherwise he was clean-shaven."
"Come into the rear office and look over our album of pickpockets and sneak-thieves. That is what this fellow most likely is—and a peculiar one too. No first-class criminal would do this job as he is doing it."
"He drinks heavily—he was partly intoxicated when I met him," said Walter, as he followed the station official into a rear office.
"Then that accounts for it. A man can't be a really successful criminal unless he keeps his wits about him. Here is the album. Look it over carefully, and let me know if you see anybody that looks like your man." And he left Walter to himself and reëntered the outer office, to hear the reports of the roundsmen coming in.
The book given to Walter was a thick one, filled with cards, photos, and tin-types of criminals. Under each picture was written a name, usually accompanied by several aliases, and also a number, to correspond with the same number in the criminal register.
"Gracious, but they keep pretty good track of them," thought Walter, as he turned over page after page. "Who would think all these good-looking men were wrong-doers? Some of them look a good deal more like ministers."
Walter had gone through half the book, and the photographs were beginning to confuse his already aching head, when a certain picture arrested his attention. "I've found him!" he cried out. "That's the fellow, although he is minus that moustache of his!"
"Did you call?" asked the sergeant, coming to the door.
"I've found him. This is the man. His name is given as Deck Mumpers, alias Foxy Mumpers, and Swiller Deck."