in a
chair in the private office of the chief of detectives of Kansas City,
Missouri. Sergeant Flannagan was sore. He would have said as much
himself. He had been sent west to identify a suspect whom the Kansas
City authorities had arrested; but had been unable to do so, and had
been preparing to return to his home city when the brilliant aureola of
an unusual piece of excellent fortune had shone upon him for a
moment, and then faded away through the grimy entrance of a basement
eating-place.

He had been walking along the street the previous evening thinking
of nothing in particular; but with eyes and ears alert as becomes a
successful police officer, when he had espied two men approaching upon
the opposite sidewalk.

There was something familiar in the swing of the giant frame of one of
the men. So, true to years of training, Sergeant Flannagan melted into
the shadows of a store entrance and waited until the two should have
come closer.

They were directly opposite him when the truth flashed upon him--the big
fellow was Billy Byrne, and there was a five-hundred-dollar reward out
for him.

And then the two turned and disappeared down the stairway that led to
the underground restaurant. Sergeant Flannagan saw Byrne's companion
turn and look back just as Flannagan stepped from the doorway to cross
the street after them.

That was the last Sergeant Flannagan had seen either of Billy Byrne or
his companion. The trail had ceased at the open window of the washroom
at the rear of the restaurant, and search as he would be had been unable
to pick it up again.

No one in Kansas City had seen two men that night answering the
descriptions Flannagan had been able to give--at least no one whom
Flannagan could unearth.

Finally he had been forced to take the Kansas City chief into his
confidence, and already a dozen men were scouring such sections of
Kansas City in which it seemed most likely an escaped murderer would
choose to hide.

Flannagan had been out himself for a while; but now he was in to learn
what progress, if any, had been made. He had just learned that three
suspects had been arrested and was waiting to have them paraded before
him.

When the door swung in and the three were escorted into his presence
Sergeant Flannagan gave a snort of disgust, indicative probably not
only of despair; but in a manner registering his private opinion of the
mental horse power and efficiency of the Kansas City sleuths, for o