t a man was at
the door with a message. The man had refused to come in, saying he was
only a messenger and was in a hurry; and had refused to give Judkins
the message, saying that it was verbal. Thinking that some word had come
from his grandmother, or possibly even from Maggie, Larry went out upon
the veranda. Waiting for him was a nondescript man he did not know.

"Mr. Brandon, sir?" asked the man.

"Yes. You have a message for me?"

Before the man could reply, there came a shout from the shrubbery beyond
the drive:

"Grab him, Smith! He's the man!"

Instantly Smith's steely arms were about Larry, pinning his elbows to
his sides, and a man broke from the shrubbery and hurried toward the
house. Instinctively Larry started to struggle, but he ceased as he
recognized the man coming up the steps. It was Gavegan. Larry realized
that he had been shrewdly trapped, that resistance would serve no end,
and the next moment handcuffs were upon his wrists.

"Well, Brainard," gloated Gavegan, "we've landed you at last!"

"So it seems, Gavegan."

"You thought you was damned clever, but I guess you know now you ain't
one, two, three!"

"Oh, I knew how clever you are, Gavegan," Larry responded dryly, "and
that you'd get me sooner or later if I hung around."

As a matter of fact Larry's capture, which was as unspectacular as his
escape had been strenuous, was the consequence of no cleverness at
all. Larry had said to Barney Palmer the night before that he knew who
Barney's sucker was; and Barney had passed this information along to
Chief Barlow. "Follow every clue; luck may be with you and one of the
clues may turn up what you want":--this is in substance an unwritten
rule of routine procedure which effects those magnificent police
solutions which are presented as more mysterious than the original
mystery--for it is well for the public to believe that its police
officers are unfailingly more clever than its criminals. Barlow had
done some routine thinking: if Larry Brainard knew Dick Sherwood was
the sucker, then watching Dick Sherwood might possibly reveal the
whereabouts of Larry Brainard. Barlow had passed this tip along to
Gavegan. Gavegan had grumbled to himself that it was only a thousand to
one shot; but luck had been with him, and his long shot had won.

Miss Sherwood, Hunt behind her, had been drawn by the sound of voices
around to the side of the veranda where stood the four men. "What are
you doing?" she now sh