He was at his desk every morning at nine o'clock, and departed at five in the evening for home, in a cab. He did not depart from the house during the night, and received no callers there.
But the detectives did not relax their vigilance.
They had a deep-rooted suspicion that Mason had been working a plot to get rid of his uncle so he could inherit part of Mr. Dalton's money, and win the broker's daughter for his bride without any opposition.
Old King Brady figured that he was bound to show his hand sooner or later.
Nor did his judgment err.
At the end of the week a telegraph boy delivered a message at the broker's residence, about nine o'clock at night.
Within a few minutes after the lad departed the front door opened and a man in shabby clothes, with a beard on his face, cautiously emerged.
He carried a big bundle under his arm.
He glanced up and down the deserted street and seeing nobody, he hastily ran down the steps and stole rapidly away.
Safely hidden in the area of an empty house opposite, the Bradys observed him, and a smile crossed Harry's face as he nudged his partner and whispered: