"Haggerty?" said the astonished patrolman. "An' Mitchell an' I've been
watchin' these lights fer an hour!"

"Some one's been here, though; so y' weren't wasting your time. I
climbed up th' fire-escape in th' alley an' got a nice biff on th' coco
for me pains. See any one running before y' saw th' lights?"

"Why, yes!"

"Ha! It's hard work t' get it int' your heads that when y' see a man
running at this time o' night, in a quiet side-street it's up t' you t'
ask him questions."

"Thought he was chasin' a cab."

"Well, listen here. Till th' owner comes back, keep your eyes peeled
on this place. An' any one y' see prowling around, nab him an' send
for me. On your way!"

Haggerty departed in a hurry. He had already made up his mind as to
what he was going to do. He hunted up a taxicab and told the chauffeur
where to go, advising him to "hit it up." His destination was the
studio-apartment of J. Mortimer Forbes, the artist. It was late, but
this fact did not trouble Haggerty. Forbes never went to bed until
there was positively nothing else to do.

The elevator-boy informed Haggerty that Mr. Forbes had just returned
from the theater. Alone? Yes. Haggerty pushed the bell-button. A
dog bayed.