"Hello! Well, what have you discovered?"
"Nothing," replied Policeman Jones, now appearing at the door. "There's not a soul anywhere about, except an old crazy woman walking up and down before Trinity Church, muttering to herself. I questioned her closely, but she knows nothing at all."
"Did you see anything of Officer Flaherty, who ought to be on this beat?"
"Not a thing, and I've searched for him everywhere, too."
"I'll see that he is provided for, the careless rascal," muttered the detective, "and you, Brady"—addressing the second policeman who had also appeared—"what luck in the church-yard? Any tracks in the snow?"
"The tracks of two men, Mr. Hook, but they are pointing this way. Just over the fence are others, too. I should say several persons had been tramping around there."
"Remain here and guard what is left," said the detective, briefly. "I'll examine into this for myself."
He hastily passed to the street, leaving the two policemen in charge.
"Now for the Trinity church-yard," he muttered, as he sprang toward the low wall at the point before which the strange woman had kneeled but a few moments before. "I've got a genuine mystery on my hands at last, I fancy, and that's what I've been sighing for these last three months—— Ha, Schneider, where's your prisoner? Surely you are not back from the station as soon as this?"
The stout German policeman, panting for a breath, stood trembling by his side.