It is strange how like the sea this world of human beings is. On the sea a great ship meets a little ship and greets it. They pass from one another’s view. They travel the world over. Five years, ten, fifteen pass, then they meet again. The same ships. New sails, fresh paint, new spars, but the same old ships. It is so with human lives. Men meet, become acquainted, are associated in work for a time. Then on the sea of life they part. In time the great circle of living that regulates all men’s doings brings them together again.  
Curlie Carson was not the only person who entered into the grim mysteries of that great city during the darkest hour just before dawn. As you know, Johnny Thompson, his one time pal, was also to witness that dawn. And so, drawn closer and closer by who knows what mysterious forces, their lives appeared about to join again.
 
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As the powerful car that bore the two youthful detectives and their understudy into the city passed down a particularly dark street, Drew brought the car to a silent stop.
 
The next instant, crouching low and followed closely by his silent partner, he sprang out of the car, leaped across an intervening space, and said in a tone that spoke of authority backed by force of arms:
 
“Don’t move! Stay as you are!”
 
Next instant Tom Howe’s slim hand shot out as he uttered a sharper command. “Keep your hands above your hips!”
 
“You got the break. It’s in my right hip pocket.” It was Greasy Thumb who spoke from the parked car which Drew Lane and Tom Howe had just covered with their guns.
 
Five minutes later, with their guns removed to a safe place in Drew Lane’s pocket, Greasy Thumb and Three Fingers were riding to the police station in Drew’s car.
 
“What charge?” Tom asked, after a time.
 
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“Concealed weapons,” Drew replied. “That will hold them.”
 
But Drew Lane and Tom Howe were due for a surprise. Forces of which they were not aware were at work in this great, grim city.