“Where’s Bryant?” he demanded.
“Bryant?” questioned Big Tom.
“Mayor Cruikshank,” corrected Yates sarcastically.
“He’s not in here,” disclaimed Big Tom, in a wondering tone. “I’ve been in here alone—”
“No hokum,” insisted the police chief. “We’ve got you, Bagshawe. We know everything. Carpenter’s here in town. He spilled the story.”
A hunted look came over Big Tom’s face. Carpenter! Wheels had said nothing about him!
Slowly, the gambler knew new amazement. He had been double-crossed by Wheels Bryant! He was to be the goat!
He slumped back in his chair. Yates laughed. So did another police officer who had entered. But now the police chief was active. He was ordering men to search this office.
“We saw Bryant cut in here,” growled Yates. “Get him, men. He can’t be far. You know whom you’re after. The crook that called himself Rufus Cruikshank. Our honorable mayor!”
The search took less than two minutes. It was obvious that the room was empty. In the hurried, tense inspection, the police were forgetful of Big Tom. They were expecting to see Wheels Bryant pop out of some corner, armed.