Jack consulted his watch. "Ten-fifteen. It's been a busy forty-five minutes!"
It was a much chastened Bobo that presently returned to the room. "What happened to me?" he asked.
"I'll tell you. You fell into the hands of the Red Gang, that's all; the same little gentleman with the Imperial that dropped us a line last night. Why, after capturing you, he was content to give you up again, I don't know."
Bobo turned pale, and his knees weakened under him. He dropped in a chair. "The Red Gang!" he murmured. "Oh, my God! Never again! Never again, s'elp me Bob! Never another drop unless you are right there to take care of me!"
Jack grunted scornfully.
Jack picked up the overcoat from the floor. As he did so, he discovered a piece of white paper pinned to the lapel.
"Ha! Maybe this is the key to the mystery!" he cried, pouncing on it.
It was written upon by the same hand that had indited the note of the night before.
"To the Secretary:
"For Heaven's sake try to teach this addle-pate the danger of drinking with strangers. His foolishness to-night almost wrecked all our plans. We have saved him from the worst den of thugs in New York, not from any love of him, you may be sure, but because when the right time comes we mean to get him ourselves.