“Drew, old boy, we win!”  
Tom Howe put out his hand to grip his partner’s solemnly.
 
It had been a stirring night. Now gray dawn was creeping up the narrow canyons that are a city’s streets.
 
As we have seen, they had come, quite by accident, upon Greasy Thumb and his undesirable companion. They had arrested them on suspicion. But suspicion holds no man in jail.
 
They had found concealed weapons upon them. But well enough they knew that in this city no man could be held for such an offense unless the arresting officer had a search warrant. They had none.
 
For all this, a bit of glorious good fortune had come their way. In attempting to conceal or discard a small package, Greasy Thumb’s partner had bungled. Tom Howe’s eagle eye had detected the move.
 
He had retrieved the package. And, of all good fortune, he had found it marked with the Air Mail’s special stamp.
 
As he showed it to Drew, his eyes shone.
 
“You wouldn’t have thought they’d keep it,” Drew whispered excitedly.
 
“Wouldn’t?” Tom drew ten one hundred dollar bills from the envelope. “Wouldn’t they, though! It’s wonderful what they’d do for money.
 
“Besides,” he added after a moment, “the thing seemed safe enough. Done in the dark. No witnesses. No nothing. Clean get away.”
 
“Wonder where the rest of it is?” Drew mused.
 
“The rest?”
 
“You don’t think they’d do all that for one grand, a mere thousand dollars! They were after something big. Wonder if they got it.
 
“By the way, what became of the Air Mail pilot?”
 
“That’s a mystery. He’s vanished.”
 
* * * * * * * *
 
Had they but known it, that air pilot was at that moment beneath the city in that labyrinth of subways, still in pursuit of the man who had snatched the mysterious package from him.
 
* * * * * * * *
 
“What will you do with them?” Johnny Thompson broke in, poking a thumb at Greasy Thumb and his partner in crime who stood huddled sulkily in a corridor of the police court building.
 
“We’ll take them right to the Chief,” Drew replied cheerfully. “He’ll book them. We’ve got the goods on ’em. The world will not see them again for many a day.”
 
They led the prisoners to an elevator, rode up two flights, walked down a dark corridor and entered a room where a heavy-set man with beady eyes sat behind a massive desk.
 
This was the Chief. He looked at the youthful detectives through eyes that seemed heavy for lack of sleep.
 
Drew advanced in silence and placed the Air Mail envelope on the Chief’s desk.
 
“What’s this?” The Chief did not look up.
&nb............