"Now, about Hunt. I found that he started to work for Merton as his confidential secretary about five years ago. Merton apparently thought a good deal of him, and gradually put more and more of his business into his hands. About a year ago, he made Hunt his general manager, and Hunt has practically been running the entire business ever since. People in the financial district seem to consider Hunt a fine fellow. What he was doing before he went with Merton I have been unable to find out in such a short time."
"I cannot say that this information helps us out very much," said Marsh. "Your news about Nolan simply confirms the idea I already had—that the Nolan message was a trick. I dug up some information today which looks like the best clue we have had so far. I think that by tomorrow afternoon we'll close in on the men we want. Telephone me at twelve o'clock tomorrow, Morgan, and I will tell you just what to do."
At this moment they heard pounding on Marsh's back door.
"I guess that's the wagon, Tierney," said Morgan. "Let them in."
Tierney went back through the flat and returned immediately with two policemen, who gathered up "Baldy" Newman and his gun and carried them quietly out and down the rear stairs.
"I'd like to tell the world," said Morgan, "that the West Side's most famous gunman has been captured with a man's bare hands. But we'll keep it quiet if you insist on it, Marsh."
"After tomorrow, Morgan, you will have more than 'Baldy' Newman to your credit. Until then, our success depends on secrecy. Now, remember, telephone me at twelve sharp tomorrow."
With that, the men parted for the night and Marsh, after making sure that all his doors and windows were securely fastened, went to bed.
But twelve o'clock on Tuesday passed without Marsh receiving his expected message, for the very good reason that Morgan and Tierney could not get to a telephone.
These two men spent the greater part of the morning in the financial district in a futile attempt to get further information regarding Hunt. About eleven o'clock Morgan suggested that they go to the North Side and get their lunch so that after telephoning Marsh they would be close at hand in case he wanted them quickly. They took the elevated to Wilson Avenue, and after leaving the train, turned east toward Broadway. At the corner stood a big, black limousine. The door was open and the chauffeur turned to them and said, "Say friends, will you help me get this guy out of the car? He's too drunk to move."