ascertaining for the benefit of his government the extent to
which anarchy was prevalent. It was necessary for him to
secure work as a miner at the lowest wages and to disguise
himself in such a way that it would be impossible for anybody
to detect his true character. Fortunately, the great
diversity of Italian dialects facilitated his efforts and
enabled him to pass himself off as from another part of the
country than his comrades. Having made his preparations he
came to New York as an immigrant and joined a party of newly
arrived Italians on their way to the coal mines of West
Virginia. Without following him further, it is enough to say
that during his service in the mines he overheard much that
was calculated to interest exceedingly the authorities at
Rome. Had his disguise been penetrated the quick thrust of a
five-inch blade would have ended his career. He would never
have returned to New York. There would only have been another
dead "Dago" miner. The local coroner would have driven up in
his buggy, looked at the body, examined the clean, deep wound
in the abdomen, shrugged his shoulders, and empanelled a
hetrogeneous jury who would have returned a verdict to the
effect that "deceased came to his death through a stab wound
inflicted by some person to the jury unknown." My friend was
not a professional detective, but the recital of his
experiences was enough to fill me with new respect for those
engaged in the "man hunt" business among the half civilized
miners of the coal regions.

But the work of even the "national" agencies is not of the
kind which the novel-reading public generally associates
with detectives--that is to say, it rarely deals with the