"It wouldn't surprise me a bit if you brought home that crime to his door," said the chief. "If, as you say, he had such extensive control of the business, he must have handled all the mail. It would then have been an easy matter for him to purloin the contents of many of the envelopes without being detected."
"The misfortune now is that he's gone so we cannot set a trap to catch him in the act," said Old King Brady. "If anything now is found out about the matter, it will only be learned from Mason himself making a clean breast of the crooked work."
"Convict him of his other misdeeds," said the chief, lighting a cigar, "and you'll have evidence enough to send the villain to jail for a long time. If Mr. Dalton is dead, you can lay the crime at his door, for he was the only person in the world who hoped to be benefited by the demise of his benefactor."
It was late when the Bradys took leave of the chief.
On the following afternoon they were ready to depart from New York, and they each wore a clever disguise.
While Old King Brady in boots and whiskers might have passed for a respectable old farmer, Harry had every appearance of being a typical Texan cowboy.
They proceeded downtown by separate routes.
Harry crossed over to the west side of the city and boarding a Belt Line horse-car, he paid his fare and glanced around.
The boy's picturesque costume and fierce big mustache attracted the attention of all the passengers.
He returned their curious stares with interest, and looking from one to the other, his gaze finally rested upon a negro sitting in a corner of the car with a big black-enamel valise on his lap.