“Why, Chief, I wouldn’t have brought him here if he hadn’t said to Morphy over the ’phone that ’it’ was fixed in her room. Now what does he mean by that ’it’?”
“We’ll find out!” declared Drew, dropping to the prisoner’s side.
“THE PRISONER SPEAKS”
The detective wasted no time searching the trouble-hunter’s pockets. His skilled fingers drew forth two envelopes, a note book and a small roll of money, the least of which was ten-dollar bills and the greatest, on the inside, spread out to three staring noughts and a one in front of these.
“One thousand and sixty dollars!” said Drew dryly, handing the roll to Delaney. “This fellow’s well heeled. Perhaps for a get-a-way. Take that. Now here––”
Drew tapped the envelopes with his fingers, spread them open and removed their sheets of closely-written paper.
“First letter,” he announced with raising brows, “is from Standard Electrical Co., of Chicago, recommending Albert Jones as a capable electrician. I don’t doubt it. He’s capable of most anything.”
Delaney took the letter and waited with his eyes fastened upon the silent figure who had not revealed his identity from the time of the arrest.