The Chief bit his lips and stirred uneasily.
“Here he had another shadower. They also conferred together. Then Vernet took a carriage and went East to the suburbs; out to the very edge of the city, where the houses are scattering and inhabited by poor laborers. At the end of K. street, he left his carriage, and went on foot to a little saloon, the farthest out of any in that vicinity. There he had a long talk with a fellow who seemed to be personating a bricklayer. He left the saloon and went back to his carriage, seemingly in high spirits, and the bricklayer departed in the opposite direction.”
“Away from the city?”
“Yes; toward the furthermost houses.”
The Chief bent his head and meditated.
“This happened, when?” he asked.
“Yesterday.”
“And Beale; what did he do?”
“Set three men to watch three men. One at Follingsbee’s, one at Warburton Place, and one at the foot of K. street.”
“Good; and these shadowers of Vernet’s—could Beale identify either of them?”