“Done!” cried Burke. “We are your birds.”  
“It’s understood,” said Collins, “when the Bradys are safe outen the way you will pay us ten thousand in gold?”
 
“That is right!” agreed Blood.
 
“Then the job is as good as done!”
 
“They are a pair of foxes!”
 
The trio laughed in a blood-curdling way.
 
“Don’t ye fear!” said Burke.
 
“Well, it’s worth that to me,” said Blood. “Once they are out of the way the course is pretty clear.”
 
“Wall, it oughter be.”
 
“I fear nobody else.”
 
“Ten thousand in gold!” said Burke. “That will take us to Australia. The twenty thousand we got fer the Fifteenth street job will start us in business, all right!”
 
“Yes, and I wish you luck!” said Blood. “Make the work sure!”
 
“Did ye ever know us to fail?”
 
“Well, no!”
 
“Very well. Ye’ll see that we’ll take keer of them Bradys all right.”
 
“Look here!” cried Collins. “What be ye going to do with that young Banks, anyway?”
 
“I’m going to arrest him,” replied Blood. This interested the detectives.
 
“Arrest him?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Ah! Have ye got the right evidence, think ye?”
 
“My man Scott, a private detective, has worked that all right. Some of the girl’s jewelry, and a lace necktie stained with blood will be found in young Banks’ room to-morrow. Also, there’ll be blood on some of his clothes.”
 
The trio laughed grimly.
 
“You’ll do!” jeered Burke. “If you’d join us this trio might become a quartette.”
 
At this there was a general laugh. Then Blood arose to go.
 
“All right,” he said in parting, “see that you do your work well by the Bradys. I’ll keep an eye out all the while.”
 
Blood left the place.
 
Then the trio also separated for the night. It was a peculiarity of theirs to be seldom found together.
 
The Bradys had gained the most valuable of information.
 
“We have got them solid!” cried Old King Brady. “We can now easily checkmate them.”
 
“What do you advise?” asked Harry.
 
“We must see young Banks at once.”
 
“So I think!”
 
“He must be put on his guard and the dastardly scheme of Blood’s frustrated. Then we will have sufficient against both Blood and the trio.”
 
“And arrest them?”
 
“Instantly!”
 
“Good! Nothing could be better.”
 
The Bradys left Sly Jimmie’s place. The air was crisp and cold, for the frigidity of winter had not yet passed away.
 
They did not attempt to shadow any individual member of the gang.
 
But they started at once for the lodgings of young Banks.
 
He roomed, while at work in the city, in Irving Place. The room was a specimen of the sort usually found in lodging houses.
 
As is usually the case in New York, Allerton knew none of the other lodgers.
 
He simply knew that a tall, hawk-eyed man roomed next to him. But he had never ventured a surmise as to the man’s character or identity.
 
The chambermaid had caught Mr. Scott, the hawk-eyed man, one day trying to fit skeleton keys to Allerton’s door.
 
But Mr. Scott profusely explained that he had got the wrong room by mistake and went into his own room.
 
All this the Bradys possessed themselves of very quickly after arriving at Allerton’s lodging house.
 
He was not in when they called, but they waited for him.
 
In due time he entered.
 
At once the Bradys introduced themselves and a pleasant conversation followed.
 
“I can assure you,” said young Banks, “the disappearance of my fiancee has been a dreadful blow to me. I have until now never given up hope that she might be found alive.”
 
“I fear there is no ground for such a hope,” said Old 10 King Brady. “You will do well to preserve your own life from the same gang.”
 
Allerton was startled.
 
“Is that true?” he exclaimed.
 
“As true as can be. We have come to warn you.”
 
Young Banks was dumfounded. He listened to the story repeated by the Bradys.
 
“That is very strange,” he said, finally. “I cannot understand it.”
 
“Now, we must work sharp to beat Blood at his own game,” said Old King Brady. “Who could have access to your room here?”
 
“Only the maid and landlady,” replied Allerton.
 
“Unless your next-door neighbor picked the lock.”
 
“Do you think it?”
 
“It is likely.”
 
“I do not even know him beyond the fact that he is a private detective and his name is Scott.”
 
The detectives winked hard.
 
“Yes, yes!” said Harry. “Well, such fellows make no trouble in finding their way through any door.”
 
“Do you think it possible?”
 
“I am sure of it.”
 
“But what could he enter my room for?” asked Allerton.
 
“The answer we will give you speedily,” replied Old King Brady. “Overhaul your wardrobe. We must search every corner of this room.”
 
“You puzzle me!”
 
“Never mind. Do as I say!”
 
“Oh, certainly!”
 
The young cashier went through his wardrobe. To his horror a suit of clothes was found smeared with blood.
 
In the coat pocket was a bloody knife.
 
The detectives kept grimly at work. Other incriminating evidence was quickly produced.
 
The young cashier was aghast.
 
“I need only say,” he said, “that this is all very inexplicable to me.”
 
“Indeed?” said Old King Brady. “How did these bloody clothes come in your room?”
 
“I have not the slightest idea.”
 
“Do you mean that?”
 
“Yes, I do!”
 
“Are they not yours?”
 
“They are.”
 
“How did the blood come upon them?”
 
“I do not know.”
 
Young Banks was like one dazed.
 
“Gentlemen,” he said, earnestly, “I swear to you that I have committed no crime. How the blood came here is an intense mystery to me. Could anybody have placed it there to incriminate me?”
 
Old King Brady’s face relaxed.
 
“I’m glad you have come to your senses, young man,” he said. “Now you are getting near the mark.”
 
“Do you know that such is the case?” asked Banks.
 
“Yes,” replied Old King Brady.
 
Banks was amazed.
 
“All this is very strange and incomprehensible to me,” he said. “Can you kindly explain it all?
 
With this, Old King Brady gave succinctly the facts in the case.
 
Young Banks listened with surprise, horror and indignation.
 
“And it is true that Evelyn was foully murdered?” he gasped. “I have had hopes until now. Oh, this is too dreadful! And it is all Blood’s work?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Then I swear that he shall be brought to justice. He shall hang.”
 
“That is just what we are trying to do now,” said Old King Brady. “And I think we are in a fair way to succeed.”
 
“I hope so. Oh, gentlemen, I place myself in your hands! What ought I to do under these circumstances?”
 
“Keep very quiet,” advised Old King Brady. “Officers will come here to arrest you and to search your room. Make no objection. Even let them arrest you if they will. Have faith in us. We will not see you come to harm.”
 
“Oh, heaven bless you! This is a terrible nightmare to me.”
 
“Do as we tell you and you will be safe!”
 
“I will surely do so!”
 
The Bradys now took their leave.
 
They carried with them the blood-stained clothes and all the evidences of the murder.
 
Thus the matter rested.
 
The next day officers went to young Banks’ room and arrested him.
 
The place was searched thoroughly, but not a trace of the evidence, supposed by Scott to be there, was found.
 
The effect of this upon the private detective it is easy to estimate.
 
However, the warrant demanded the arrest of Allerton Banks and he was taken to the Tombs.
 
The evening papers came out with a thrilling account of the arrest.
 
“The murderer found!” it read. “At last an arrest is made. It proves a great surprise, for the party charged with the crime by Detective Scott is no other than the lover of the missing girl, Allerton Banks.”
 
A long reminiscent account of the crime followed.
 
The Bradys read this with interest.
 
Then they caused an article to appear the next day deriding Scott and ridiculing the arrest.
 
The brief hearing before a police magistrate justified this.
 
There was no case whatever against young Banks.
 
The police justice at once discharged him and reprimanded Scott.
 
The Bradys now decided to act.
 
Their purpose was to make wholesale arrests. They would scoop the whole gang at once.
 
They believed they had plenty of evidence to convict all.
 
They had evidence that Scott had secured the room next to Banks for the purpose of effecting an entrance.
 
11
They had the evidence of the chambermaid that he had been seen trying to pick the lock.
 
They could show complicity between Blood and the Tough Trio.
 
They could also show a warrantable motive for the crime and altogether quite sufficient evidence to convict the gang.
 
So the Bradys went first to the residence of Mr. Napoleon Blood in lonely Westchester.
 
But he was not there.
 
“He has just gone to the city with Mr. Scott, the detective,” declared the servant.
 
And that was all.
 
Mr. Blood did not return. His good sense precluded this.
 
He had seen the handwriting on the wall and at once took measures to protect himself.
 
He was missing.
 
So also was Scott, the detective, and the Tough Trio.