He looked into Kinsman’s hat.
“That was bought in Chicago, too.”
He examined the label on Kinsman’s tie.
“This was also bought in Chicago.”
He turned up the label at the back of the neck of the new silk underclothes worn by the prisoner.
“Those were bought in State street, Chicago, and from a very good store, too—I know it well.”
Kinsman now began to be pugnacious and defiant.
“See here!” he said, “You must take me for a boob.”
“Yes, I think you are a boob,” replied the Commissioner. “You might as well have made your getaway with a brass band as to take Swede Annie with you to Albany, attracting attention all the way, and then send her back to New York with a hundred dollars to tell the police where you had gone.”
Suddenly Lieutenant Riley, personal aide, walked into the Commissioner’s office carrying a cheap article of millinery—a shabby black velvet hat with a row of little red roses across the front. Commissioner Dougherty apparently grew very angry.