The noted detective had outwitted him completely.
It was humiliating, to say the least.
"This is an outrage!" at length the young villain found voice to
utter. "I will call on the police for assistance if you do not at once
remove these bracelets."
"Do so if you like," answered Dyke Darrel, coolly; so icily in fact as
to deter the young man from carrying out his threat. It might be that
the detective would delight in turning him over to the Chicago police,
a consummation that the fellow dreaded more than aught else.
"Come with me, and make no trouble. You will do so, if you know when
you are well off," said Dyke Darrel significantly.
And Wilks walked along peacefully, allowing the sleeves of his coat to
hide the handcuffs. After going a few blocks, the detective hailed a
hack, and pushing his prisoner before him, entered and ordered the
driver to make all speed for the Union depot.
"What does this mean?" demanded the prisoner, with assumed
indignation.
"It means that you will take a trip South for your health, my friend."
"To St. Louis?"
"You have guessed it, Skidway."
A troubled look touched the face of the escaped prisoner.
"Why do you call me by that name, Dyke Darrel?"
"Because that IS your name.
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