“I say——” protested Brady anew.
“Shut up!” ordered the policeman. “You’ll have a chance to explain to the captain at headquarters.”
“Aha!” hissed Brady, as, pulled out into the main room, he for the first time observed Tom. Evidently he recognized him, for a sullen, surly look came into his crafty face.
At the door of the restaurant the policeman paused.
“Go to the second corner, lad,” he directed Tom, “and tell officer Moore his partner needs his assistance.”
Tom did as directed, and five minutes later the prisoners were led down the street, each in the charge of a stalwart guardian of the law.
When the party reached the station, the first policeman beckoned to Tom and led him to the office of the police captain. Tom told his story in a simple direct way. The captain came out and looked first at the grotesque figure and affrighted face of the big man, and then at Brady.
“Ah, it’s you, is it?” exclaimed the police official, with a start of recognition. “Circus Jake.”
“I think you are mistaken,” muttered Brady, in a surly tone.
“Oh, no, I’m not. If you think so, I’ll just send for your picture from the Rogues’ Gallery, and go over a few records. Lahey, keep your eye close on this fellow till I need him. You two come with me.”