They were mistaken.
During the four days of his confinement in the Tombs the captured criminal could not be persuaded to utter a word.
On the morning of the fifth day burglar Joe Dutton was found lying dead upon the floor of his cell.
Upon the same day occurred the funeral of the murdered Mrs. Marley.
Through some unknown source a lot had been purchased in a suburban cemetery. Detective Hook and Frank Mansfield, concealed within a closed carriage, were the sole mourners who followed to the grave.
Not the slightest clew to the perpetrator of this cowardly murder had been obtained by the police, but then they had not exerted themselves very violently, you see.
Mrs. Marley was only a poor, half crazy woman—there was no money in the case.
But in the busy rush of New York already were these matters well-nigh forgotten.
The robbery of the Webster bank, the disappearance of Frank Mansfield, and the murder of Mrs. Marley were all things of the past.
Maxwell, the clerk, had been engaged at his books not over an hour—and even that short space of time had sufficed to bring the short winter's day nearly to a close—when the office door again opened and a flashily dressed young man smoking a long cigar entered.