“By Jove,” said the superintendent, “that’s curious. I wonder what he’s struck now. Well, I guess I’ll hang onto Chesterfield for a few days, anyway.” Then he telephoned to Brixton, who was now working night and day on the counterfeit money case, which divided public attention with the Marchburn mystery. To the police these cases had proved two of the most remarkable criminal problems they had ever been called upon to solve. Congress had added to the excitement by adopting the recommendation of the Secretary of the Treasury and offering a reward of fifty thousand dollars for the arrest and conviction of the counterfeiters.
Brixton came in dejectedly in answer to the summons. To Walton, who was an old friend, he admitted that he was beaten.
“Brace up, old man,” said Walton; “I’ve got something good for you,” and he at once told him of the arrest of Marsh and Richardson’s telegram.
A gleam of excitement blazed from the secret service man’s eyes. He jumped from his chair and paced the room a couple of times before he could control himself; then, leaning over his friend’s desk, he talked rapidly. “By jove, Walton, you’ve got our man. There is only one man in the country who could have done the job, and that’s Marsh. I have thought about him a dozen times since I’ve been at work on the case, but always supposed him to be dead. What a confounded idiot I am not to have investigated that suicide story; yet I never had reason to doubt it.”
Both men felt certain that they were at last hot on the right trail, and that Marsh was still engaged in his old business of counterfeiting. While discussing the next move to be made Brixton suddenly said: “What does Richardson’s telegram mean?”
The words produced a peculiar effect upon Walton, which was reflected in Brixton’s face. Both men scrutinized each other for a brief space of time without speaking. It was as if they were grappling with the same thought, and yet both were afraid to frame in words what was passing through their minds. It was Walton who at last broke the silence and in a nervous sort of way said:—
“That is absurd.”
“What is?”
“What you are thinking about.”
It was curious that neither man had openly expressed his thoughts, and yet each knew what was in the other’s mind just as well as if the words had been uttered.