fortune in the next few days. He's the King of Pine Street."

While I was looking at the King of the Street and listening to my
neighbor's tales of his operations, Doddridge Knapp's eyes met mine. To
my amazement there was a look of recognition in them. Yet he made no
sign, and in a moment was gone. This, then, was the enemy I was to
meet! This was the explanation of Detective Coogan's hint that I should
be safer in jail than free on the streets to face this man's hatred or
revenge.

I must have stood in a daze on the busy street, for I was roused by
some one shaking my arm with vigor.

"Come! are you asleep?" said the man, speaking in my ear. "Can't you
hear?"

"Yes, yes," said I, rousing my attention.

"The chief wants you." His voice was low, almost a whisper.

"The chief? Who? Where?" I asked. "At the City Hall?" I jumped to the
conclusion that it was, of course, the chief of police, on the scent of
the murder.

"No. Of course not. In the second office, you know."

This was scarcely enlightening. Doubtless, however, it was a summons
from my unknown employer.

"I'll follow you," said I promptly.