"Give me the pass-book," said Barracola, curtly.
"I have not brought it with me," replied Collins.
"Oh," said Barracola, "well, in that case, you don't require my advice. I should have looked after my customer's interest, but you had better take the book to Casati himself or give it to this gentleman."
Barracola now wrote something on a piece of paper, which he folded and gave to Collins, who was then shown out. In the street the officer looked at the paper, and, to his intense astonishment, read the following: "Detective-Sergeant Collins, either at police head-quarters here or in Boston."
The detective could hardly believe his eyes at seeing his own name written in a large, clear hand. Did Barracola know him? he wondered, and had he taken this roundabout way of letting him see that his purpose was understood?
Collins hesitated for a moment, thinking hard; then he went direct to head-quarters, where he had a hurried talk with Inspector O'Brien. The latter promptly called Mr. Barracola up on the telephone, and told him that a pass-book had just been delivered up to him by an Italian who said he had been directed there by Mr. Barracola.
"Yes; that's quite right," replied Barracola. "I did send someone."
The inspector asked a question: "But why direct the man to Sergeant Collins?" he queried.
"I read in the morning papers of Casati's arrest," answered Barracola, "and that Officer Collins was coming here to extradite him."
The explanation was reasonable enough, and there was nothing for Collins to do but accept it. Thinking quietly over the matter, however, the detective came to the conclusion that Mr. Antonio Barracola, the eminently respectable Italian banker, was a remarkably shrewd man, and he became more than ever determined to discover what lay behind his ordinary business. That there was something behind it he felt confident, but for some time his investigations were without result.