that Warrington's car disappeared. Then we find her dead over in
New Jersey."

"And I find reports and traces that the car has been in the
vicinity," added Garrick.

"You see," beamed Dillon, "that's how we work together. Say you
MUST meet Herman."

He rang a bell and a blue-coated man opened the door. "Call
Herman, Jim," he said, then, as the man disappeared, he went on to
us, "I have given Herman carte-blanche instructions to conduct a
thorough investigation. He has been getting the goods on another
swell joint on the next street, in Forty-eighth, a joint that is
just feeding on young millionaires in this town, and is or will be
the cause of more crime and broken hearts if I don't land it and
break it up than any such place has been for years." The door
opened, and Dillon said, "Herman, shake hands with Mr. Garrick and
Mr. Marshall."

The detective was a quiet, gentlemanly sort of fellow who looked
rugged and strong, a fighter to be respected. In fact I would much
rather have had a man like him with us than against us. I knew
Garrick's aversion to the regular detective and was not surprised
that he did not overwhelm Mr. Herman by the cordiality of his
greeting. Garrick always played a lone hand, preferred it and had
taken Dillon into his confidence only because of his official
position and authority.

"These gentlemen are going to work independently on that Rena