"As to that, George will explain when I am gone. But listen: While I am away, you are to bend all your energies toward retaking Barney Hawks and Jake Klinkhammer, and to find out who a certain Beach and a certain Emory may be, who camped out on the Madison sea-shore six summers ago. George will explain the rest."
"All right, sir."
"This treasure, George," continued Old Spicer, producing the Jew's boodle, "I wish you would place in the vaults of the Safe Deposit Company, as soon as they open in the morning."
"I'll attend to it, sir."
"Thanks. And now I must be off," and he started for the door.
"Stay!" exclaimed Stricket. "Supposing we should want to communicate with you, where will a letter or dispatch reach you?"
"Care of Inspector Byrnes, 300 Mulberry Street. If you want to get word to me, use the wires, and use them freely. Time is everything to us, you know. And now good-bye."
"Good-bye, sir, and good luck."
"Thanks, the same to you," and Old Spicer hurried from the house.
"Now, then, driver," he said, as he sprung into the cab, "I can ride as fast as your horse can go."