"My daughter told me you had telephoned," Jerome Davis began a trifle uneasily. "I thought I might as well walk on over and see you. I hope I didn't come too late."
"Not at all. I seldom retire before midnight. Davis, I suppose you wonder why I wanted to talk with you."
A grim look had come over the officer's face.
"I judge it's about the stolen wheel and generator. I met your daughter this evening."
"So she told me. However, what I really wanted to talk to you about was the Molberg gang."
The officer offered no response.
"I don't need to tell you that they are at the bottom of this recent outburst of thievery," the detective went on, eyeing his caller shrewdly. "Unless they're captured soon, you'll be in a bad spot, Davis."
"I'm in one now. I've always tried to be honest and do my duty as I saw it. Because of that I'll probably end up without a job."
"Not if you team along with me and help me to capture this gang. I'll say frankly that since I took this case for the insurance company, I haven't had much cooperation from the police."
"I'll be glad to help you all I can, Mr. Nichols. But I must act cautiously."