“I know, I know,” I jumbled on; “but what does Pawlinson say of the girl? What had she to do with the thing, anyway?”
“The girl? For Heaven’s sake, Grey, how much do you know about this thing?”
But he got little satisfaction from me then, for a sudden realization swept over me.
I caught up the paper describing the man who was wanted, and crowded it into my pocket.
“Explain later, chief,” I blurted, making for the door. “I’ll wire you the minute I’ve got him located. Meanwhile wire me money when I call for it, will you?”
“Aye, aye, boy!” agreed the chief, understanding thoroughly that even his curiosity must wait. He was a big enough man to know when to play second fiddle.
So I caught the midnight train to Boston which connected with the Portland express.
CHAPTER IV.
TWO PANETELAS.
Upon quitting Chief Garth’s door and trotting down his stoop, I walked briskly westward in the direction of a square which I counted upon getting another cab; for, expecting no further use of him, I had dismissed my former driver. I found two cabs, both taxis, and immediately stepped toward the nearest.
“Grand Central Station!” said I to the fellow dozing on his seat.