“How did you make your way here?” asked Josie.
“I saw you arrive in town and recognized you as John O’Gorman’s daughter. Was on old John’s force at one time. Josie O’Gorman is a friend of Mary Louise Burrows, whose auto was stolen by the man I’m hunting. That’s simple enough.”
“Have you been searching for him long in this locality?” asked Chief Lonsdale, handing him a business card.
“Oh, you’re not unknown to me, Charles Lonsdale,” he said; “I’ve hung around here for two days or more, and that’s long enough to tag any man.”
“What’s the name of your Boston fugitive?”
“Here they call him Danny Dexter—his war name. In Boston he was best known as Jim O’Hara.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Josie O’Gorman, in a low tone of surprise. “Then he’s well worth finding. Forger?”
“Yes—and more,” replied the big man, gravely.
Chief Lonsdale was staring at both of them.
“What is your real name?” he asked the man. “A business card doesn’t amount to much in our profession,” and he spun the proffered card across the table.