The safe was in the
very car that I occupied. I saw the men get the swag. There were three
of them."
"Go on."
"They all wore mask, so of course I could not tell who they were; but
I've an idea that they were from Chicago."
"Why have you such an idea?"
"Because I saw three suspicious chaps get on at Twenty-second street.
I think they are the chaps who killed poor Arnold, and got away with
the money in the safe."
"Did you recognize them?"
"No--that is, I'm not positive; but I think one of 'm was a chap that
is called Skinny Joe, a hard pet, who used to work in a saloon on
Clark street."
"Indeed."
"Yes. It might be well to keep your eye out in that quarter."
"It might," admitted Dyke Darrel. "This is all you know regarding the
midnight tragedy?"
"Oh, no; I can give you more particulars."
"Let's have them, then."
"But see here, how am I to know that you are a detective? I might get
sold, you know," replied Mr. Wilks in a suspicious tone.
Dyke Darrel lifted the lapel of his coat, exposing a silver star.
"All right," returned Mr. Wilks, with a nod. "I'm of the opinion that
Skinny Joe's about the customer you need to look after, captain. I'll
go down with you to the fellow's old haunts, and we'll see what we can
find.
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