"It's not too late. I may get hold of the girl again," mused Hartley, as he rose to go. "If I do, I won't put her in charge of such a dunderhead."
He left Donovan's and returned to New York, but he had hardly left the Fulton ferry-boat when he was tapped on the shoulder by an officer.
"I want you," he said.
"What for?" asked Hartley, nervously.
"A little financial irregularity, as they call it in Wall street. You may know something about some raised railroad certificates!"
"Confusion!" muttered Hartley. "Luck is dead against me."