"You are gathering evidence by the wholesale," laughed Mr. Harrison. "You'll have more than enough to convict."
"I don't want to make a failure of it," I said firmly. "When I go to court I want a clear case from start to finish."
"Good! Strong, I admire your grit. Come in the restaurant, and while we have a bit of breakfast let us look over the papers. I declare, I was never before so interested in some one else's affairs."
And as we waited for our rolls, eggs, and coffee, we read the papers through carefully.
They gave much information, the most startling of which was that John Stumpy and Ferguson were one and the same person.
"That explains why Mr. Woodward made so many slips of the tongue when addressing him," I said.
"Here is another important thing," remarked Mr. Harrison; "a letter from this John Woodward stating that Mrs. Agatha Mitts knows of the forgeries. Now, if you can get this woman to testify against the two culprits, I think you will have a clear case."
"And that is just what I will force her to do," I said, with strong determination.
I could hardly wait to finish breakfast. Fortunately it did not take Mr. Harrison long to do so, and, five minutes later we were on our way to the ferry. The trip over the East River, near the big bridge, did not take long, and we soon stood on the opposite shore. Vannack Avenue was pretty well up town, and we took the elevated train to reach it.
"There is No. 648," said Mr. Harrison, pointing to a neat three-story brick building that stood in the middle of the block; "let us walk past first, and see if there is any name on the door."