“To-night at Mrs. Lispenard’s,” answered Mr. Welton, promptly.
“Very good. To-night I will have a detective at Mrs. Lispenard’s, and we will see what can be done.”
“Give him a letter to me and I’ll post him,” said Mr. Opdyke. “My office is at No. — Wall street. Let him come before three.”
“Very good,” replied Old King Brady, and they left.
Now I fully expected that I was going to be sent out on that case, but I wasn’t.
When I came out of the closet Old King Brady had nothing to say about it, and didn’t allude to the matter for nearly five weeks—in fact till after Lent.
One day he called me aside and said, “You remember those two dudes who called on me that day you hid in the closet?”
“Yes,” said I.
“I sent a man to Opdyke,” he said, “and just as I supposed there was nothing taken that night.”
“Surely you don’t suspect Mr. Opdyke gave you away?” I exclaimed.