Once again the officer chuckled. It was evident that he was well pleased with his own ingenuity.
“Nowhere yet,” he said at last. “But, just about the time he's starting for the West I'll have her down at Headquarters. Demarest will have her indicted before noon. She'll go for trial in the afternoon. And to-morrow night she'll be sleeping up the river.... That's where she is going.”
Gilder stood motionless for a moment. After all, he was an ordinary citizen, quite unfamiliar with the recondite methods familiar to the police.
“But,” he said, wonderingly, “you can't do that.”
The Inspector laughed, a laugh of disingenuous amusement, for he understood perfectly the lack of comprehension on the part of his hearer.
“Well,” he said, and his voice sank into a modest rumble that was none the less still thunderous. “Perhaps I can't!” And then he beamed broadly, his whole face smiling blandly on the man who doubted his power. “Perhaps I can't,” he repeated. Then the chuckle came again, and he added emphatically: “But I will!” Suddenly, his heavy face grew hard. His alert eyes shone fiercely, with a flash of fire that was known to every patrolman who had ever reported to the desk when he was lieutenant. His heavy jaw shot forward aggressively as he spoke.
“Think I'm going to let that girl make a joke of the Police Department? Why, I'm here to get her—to stop her anyhow. Her gang is going to break into your house to-night.”
“What?” Gilder demanded. “You mean, she's coming here as a thief?”
“Not exactly,” Inspector Burke confessed, “but her pals are coming to try to pull off something right here. She wouldn't come, not if I know her. She's too clever for that. Why, if she knew what Garson was planning to do, she'd stop him.”
The Inspector paused suddenly. For a long minute his face was seamed with thought. Then, he smote his thigh with a blow strong enough to kill an ox. His face was radiant.