The other studied him with
sidelong glances of unabated astonishment. They were soon going
up the steps of the Holland Agency, which looked for all the
world, with its closed shutters, and quiet front, like a retreat
for the worshipers of Dame Fortune. Cronin fortunately did not
believe in signs. So the young man was not suspicious, even when
Shirley gave three knocks upon the door, to be admitted by the
sharp-nosed guardian of the portal.
"Tell Cleary to come downstairs, Nick," said the criminologist.
"I want him to meet a friend of mine."
The superintendent was soon speeding two steps at a time.
"The Captain is back, Mr. Shirley," he exclaimed. "He's in the
private office on a couch."
"Good, then we'll take my friend right to him."
The stranger was beginning to evidence uneasiness, and he turned
questioningly to his conductor, with a growing frown.
"Say, what are you leading me into, Chief?"
Shirley said nothing but strode to the rear of the floor, through
the door of Captain Cronin's sanctum.
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