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Updated: May 17, 2025
Then we'll know how the ground lies." The fellow crept away unseen, and McAdams gripped West's hand. "Say, but this is mighty good luck, old boy," he blurted out. "I was afraid you'd gone down in that yacht last night." "You were! How did you know about it?" "Stumbled on to the story, the way most detectives solve their mysteries.
This, and this only, must be the answer to the riddle. McAdams, unable to remain quiet, departed to get his police search started in an attempt to discover Hobart in his new hiding place. The fellow could not be on the yacht, as that had sailed from Jackson Port at far too early an hour for him to have possibly made one of the party.
Engine working bad, and had to come in, hey? All right thanks; I'll go straight over and see them." This was great luck, yet there was very little he could hope to accomplish alone, without the help and authority of McAdams. Even if the vessel had been stolen which was probably not true he possessed no power of arrest.
"We've got to get the drop first, that's all. They're yellow, the whole outfit is yellow. Shootin' in the back is their style. Now, you know the lay inside the house; what is our best chance?" West studied over the situation, his eyes staring into the darkness, and McAdams waited. "Well, Mac," he said finally.
McAdams drew out a thick volume from a near-by cabinet, and ran his fingers swiftly down a long column of names, indexed under the letter "H." Suddenly he stopped, with an exclamation. "The lad is here all right Government offence, fifteen years ago, third arrest; mugged number 28113. Let's look him up, and see if he is the same man. Come over here, Captain." "Is that the fellow?" he asked.
No one had reason to believe he was aboard the Seminole; not even McAdams. If it was to their interest to get him permanently out of the way if Hobart had so decided what simpler method could be found than the sinking of the yacht?
The arrangements were quickly perfected; a short, whispered conference in the dark; then one man crept silently away through the night toward the front of the house. McAdams added a few more words of instruction to the others, and, with West slightly in advance, revolvers drawn and ready, the five stole forward in the direction of the rear porch.
All right, Central; sure, that is the proper number. This is the City Hall Police Headquarters again; hustle it up, please. Hullo, Jackson Park Life Saving Station? Good; this is McAdams speaking from the City Detective Bureau. Is there a yacht out there in the lagoon called the Seminole? belongs to a man named Coolidge; medium sized boat, with gas engine. Yes; what's that?
The sooner we start, the quicker we shall arrive. I want most of all to telegraph McAdams." "Who?" "McAdams, the detective I told you about in Chicago, an old army buddy of mine. He'll have Hobart located by this time, no doubt, and will put the screws on him when he learns what has happened to us."
Hobart went down cursing, the gun kicked out of his hand, his arm broken; Hogan, struggling still, but pinned to the floor by three men, was given a blow to the chin which left him unconscious, while the other two threw up their hands and yelled for mercy. McAdams wiped his streaming face, and looked around.
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