On the same day that Murray visited the capitalist the latter, in company with his lawyer, called upon Fellman. They found the man walking up and down his office with an expression of great satisfaction upon his face; but there followed a look of consternation when the special partner announced the object of his visit, and the rogue Fellman received the first intimation that his cunning scheme of robbery was not going to prove such an easy and successful venture as he supposed.
While the events which we have described were transpiring in New York, Ike was working his end of it down at the house on Long Island. The boy discovered a cunning and ingenuity that were really marvelous. He had telegraphed a certain request to the detective and then continued his “piping” for facts.
That evening Detective Murray arrived. He met Ike near the clubhouse and the lad discovered that his friend had brought a magnificent hound with him.
“I got your telegram, Ike,” said the officer.
“I see.”
“I have brought one of the best hounds ever raised in this country—an animal trained to trailing human beings.”
“We will have use for him. This man, Herman Fellman, is a daring and cunning man, and I have made a most startling discovery. He intends to murder his prisoner in cold blood. I’ve been close on his track. He is a man who talks to himself, and I overheard him muttering, and from what he said I am sure he intends to do away with young Burlein, and I believe he intends to do it to-night.”
“We can get into the house and watch him.”
“No need. He has several children, besides his wife. They are all trained in villainy. We will never discover anything by watching him, simply because the man would evade us, do away with his victim and then defy us. We could get the proof against him and hang him, but hanging that fellow would not bring Burlein back to life.”
“Ike,” said Murray, “you are a born detective.”