“Yes, I suppose so. But what can we do about this mess if nobody will believe us?”
“Find out what racket old Fanely is running—and get him with the goods.”
“Easier said than done, Bill. Let’s kidnap the old boy and that Kolinski guy, for choice. Leave me alone in a room with those bozos for half an hour, and I’ll come out with a couple of signed confessions. They’re a pair of third degree artists themselves. I’m fed up with all this kid glove business. And they’ve got a whole lot coming from me before we break even.”
They were silent for a minute or two. Mr. Davis brought out his pipe, filled and lighted it. Tossing the glowing match over the porch rail, he turned toward the irate young chief.
“But such methods will get us nowhere. And even if we were able to follow out your suggestion, I, as servant of the Federal Government, could not countenance it. Bill is right. Only by learning what is really in back of this, will we be able to apprehend the ringleader, and put him where he can do no more harm. I’m old enough to be your father, chief, and I’ve been in this business since before you were born. As you know, I first thought that we were up against a dope smuggling gang. That is how I first came onto this case.”
“Then you’ve changed your mind about that?” inquired Bill.
“Yes and no. Dope smuggling from Europe may be part of it—but only part. That would be small potatoes for a man of the professor’s standing and wealth. There’s something else behind all this winged cartwheel affair, and we’ve touched only the edge of it. The next move on our program is to do exactly what Bill suggests: go and find out about it. Before Miss Lightfoot put us wise to Professor Fanely, I hadn’t the least idea where to turn. Her information gives us the lead and we shall certainly take advantage of it.”
Bill looked up. “The old boy has a big place in Greenwich, has he not?”
“Yes. And one or more of us will be in that house of his before thirty-six hours.”
“Why thirty-six hours?” This from Osceola. “Why not tonight? Greenwich is only just beyond Stamford—we can run down there in forty-five minutes by car.”