The assistant chief, Fetterman by name, was on duty, and the arrival of Jurgens created a mild sensation. Detectives were even then prowling about the city looking for Lattimer Jurgens, Whistler, Bangs, and a young man, name unknown, wearing a slouch hat, sweater and frayed corduroy trousers. The detectives had not met with the slightest success, and the bringing in of Jurgens, by Motor Matt and his chums, naturally created a mild degree of excitement.
The surprise was in the nature of a question by Fetterman.
"Where are you going, King, from here?"
Matt gave him the number of the house in Prytania Street where Townsend had taken up his quarters.
"Ah," said Fetterman, with a peculiar glance, "that's the place where the diamonds were stolen. A new man is taking a hand in the game. I'll get him at once and bring him to the place in Prytania Street, but I'd like to have you and your friends stay there until we arrive. What this man has to say will be of interest to all of you."
"Who is he?" inquired Matt, curiously.
"I have promised to let him do his own talking," was the vague response.
Vastly puzzled, Matt went out to the car, told his chums what Fetterman had said, and all three of them wondered and guessed clear to Prytania Street and the house of Mrs. Thomas.
This time Matt entered by the front way. There was a light in Townsend's room. The shade was drawn, but a glow could be seen through it.
Matt was announced by a sleepy domestic, and he and his chums were shown up the stairs to the sick chamber. Cassidy was on duty as usual, and Townsend was wide awake and sitting up in his bed.