As Jerry walked along a somewhat gloomy street, he noticed three men walking ahead of him. One was a tall, finely built man, wearing a large round hat, of the western type.
The other men were short fellows, each with a red mustache. They carried heavy canes and walked on either side of the tall individual.
“Aren’t we almost there?” Jerry heard the tall man ask, as he drew closer to the trio.
“Yes, it ain’t but a step further,” was the reply from one of the short men.
“You are certain this Crazy Jim is the man I am after?”
“Oh, yes.”
The mentioning of Crazy Jim’s name interested Jerry. Crazy Jim was still up on Blackwell’s Island. It was possible, however, that they referred to some other individual.
To hear what further they might have to say the young oarsman kept close to the party.
“It’s been a long hunt for me, gentlemen,” said the tall man, and by his speech Jerry felt sure he was a westerner. “But if I am on the right trail, things will soon come out right.”
“What do you want to find Crazy Jim for?” asked one of the short men.