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Updated: May 31, 2025
Getting out of his chaise, he said confidentially to the servant, "I have brought back your young lady." "Our young lady!" exclaimed the man, as the Doctor pointed out Isabella. "Yes, she is a little insane, is she not?" "She is not our young lady," answered the servant; "we have nobody in the house just now, but Mr. and Mrs. Fogerty, and Mrs. Fogerty's brother, the old geologist."
Fogerty lighted a fresh cigarette, watching the scene with an imperturbable smile. Suddenly Smith awoke to life. He half turned, looked wonderingly at Hetty, and then folded her thin form in his arms and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Fogerty coughed. Uncle John jerked out his handkerchief and blew his nose like a bugle call.
You did time a couple of years ago for knocking out a policeman." "I'm safe enough now, though," responded Big Bill. "You're not working on the reg'lar force, Fogerty, you're only a private burr." "I am protected, just the same," asserted Fogerty. "When you knabbed me I was shadowing Mershone, who has made away with a prominent society young lady."
"A detective, I believe," said Mershone, in a low, matter of fact tone. "Who? me?" asked Fogerty, lowering the paper. "Yes. Your age deceived me for a time. I imagined you were a newsboy or a sporting kid from the country; but now I observe you are older than you appear. All sorts of people seem to drift into the detective business. I suppose your present occupation is shadowing me."
The girls, who had not yet gone to the office, awaited somewhat impatiently the result of this conference, for they already knew the red-headed youth to be the great Fogerty admitted by even his would-be rivals, the king of New York detectives.
How dare you come here to annoy and browbeat that poor girl?" she cried in clear, cutting accents, without noticing the presence of Fogerty. "Oh, shut up, Di, you're in it as deep as I am," he retorted, turning away with a flushed face. "I'm not, sir! Never have I countenanced this wicked, criminal act," she declared.
Fogerty, on his knees, scanned the snow carefully, and although Weldon could discover no sign of a footprint the young detective nodded his head sagaciously and slowly made his way to the trellis at the end. Here it was plain that the accumulation of snow had recently been brushed away from the frail framework.
Wake him up, my lad; will you?" "Wait a minute," said the youth, and left the window. Presently he opened the front door, slipped gently out and closed the door behind him. "Let's sit in your car," he said, in soft, quiet tones. "We can talk more freely there." "But I must see Fogerty at once!" protested Arthur. "I'm Fogerty." "Q. Fogerty?"
So Weldon hastily told the events of the evening and gave a history of Mershone and his relations with Miss Merrick. The story was not half told when Fogerty said: "Tell your man to drive to the police station." On the way Arthur resumed his rapid recital and strove to post the young detective as well as he was able.
If only I could be sure Louise was safe I'd toss every care and every honest thought to the winds, from this moment." During the silence that followed Fogerty was thoughtful. Indeed, his mind dwelt more upon the defeated and desperate man beside him than upon the waif he was searching for. "What's been done, Mr. Mershone," he said, after a time, "can't be helped now.
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