ne, punctuated this
human maelstrom sweeping toward its duplex outlets of the morgue
or Sing Sing's gloomy prison cells.

No one noted Witherspoon and Doctor Atwater seated in two different
carriages drawn up under the shades of lonely buildings on the side
street near the Dry Dock Bank.

The window-curtains were down in each of these waiting vehicles,
and the drivers nodded upon their boxes.

In all the guilty bosoms on the bedlam-like street no hearts beat
as wildly as those in the breasts of McNerney and Condon.

"It's the one chance of our lives, Jim," said McNerney, as he
crouched in a dark doorway before posting his comrade. Both were
now in uniform, ready for a dash, and McNerney's upper lip wore a
movable prototype of his cherished mustache. "The boy comes down
Fourteenth Street always and by Fourth Avenue," whispered Dennis.

"You watch the corner from this side. I'll nab the woman from the
other. Remember, not till they have met and finished their talk.
Then you can take the boy along with Atwater. I'll rush the woman
away with Mr. Witherspoon."

It was twenty minutes past ten when McNerney saw the dark-clad
form of Leah Einstein swiftly gliding along in the shade from Third
Avenue. Onward she sped, never turning her veiled face to the right
or left, until she slackened her pace under the gloomy cornices of
the Dry Dock Bank.

The policeman sprang into a dark hallway as she passed, holding
his breath lest the shy bird should take alarm.

In a few moments Emil Einstein sauntered across the Bowery and
circling around the deserted bank corner, then settled down into
a slow, searching pace, threading the lonely south side of the
darkened cross street.

From his hidden post, McNerney could see the woman clinging to the
boy's arm and pleading, while she murmured her prayers in a low
tone.

"Not yet, not yet," mused McNerney. "He must get her whole message.
She must have time to get his last report."

At last, as the tiger springs upon its prey, McNerney leaped out
of his hiding place, for the sobbing woman had turned alone toward
the East River.

With a frightened half scream, the timorous woman staggered back
speechless as the uniform of the tall officer flashed before her
eyes.

In a moment she was in the carriage, and both her wrists grasped
by Witherspoon's sinewy hands.

But, before the carriage started, McNerney, tearing away the rear
curtain, saw Policeman Condon hustling the struggli