I wrote out a check and tossed it to the detective.
"Now go to Colonel Gaylord," I said, "tell him that you have been unsuccessful in finding any clue; that the bonds will almost certainly be marketed in the city, and that your only hope of tracing them is to work from the other end. Then pack your bag and go. A carriage will be ready to take you to the Junction in half an hour."
"Just wait a moment, Mr. Clancy," Rad called after him as he turned away. He drew a note book from his pocket and ripping out a page scrawled across the face:
"Jacoby, Haight and Co.
"Gentlemen:—You will oblige me by answering any questions which the bearer of this note may ask concerning my past transactions with you.
"Radnor F. Gaylord."
"There," said Rad, thrusting it toward him, "kindly make use of that when you get to Washington, and in the future I should advise you to base your charges on something a little more substantial."
His manner was insultingly contemptuous, but Clancy swallowed it with smiling good nature.
"I shall be interested in continuing the investigation," he observed as he pocketed the paper and withdrew.