the liberty of borrowing Danny," it read. "There is
a matter of some importance which I desire to get at the bottom
of, and a small red-haired boy is perhaps the best agent I could
employ. Keep in touch with me.

"ASHTON-KIRK."

Jimmy Casey, who taught the use of boxing gloves in the gymnasium,
explained the matter.

"He comes here, in an awful rush, about ten o'clock," said Jimmy, "and
wants to see you. When he finds out you ain't here, he says it's all
right, and don't make no difference anyhow. So he goes into the office
and talks to the kid. And maybe that kid ain't glad, or nothing. His mug
looked like a tin pan that'd just been scoured. A couple of minutes
later they beat it away in a cab."

"It's all right," said Mr. Scanlon. "Some little hurry-up business, I
guess."

All day Bat worked steadily with his clients. Once in the afternoon he
paused long enough to call Nora on the telephone. Her response was
cheerful; indeed, she talked rather gaily of many things, and he finally
hung up the receiver with a wrinkle of discontent between his brows.

As evening came he took a shower and a rub-down, and then went out for a
stroll. He had no definite notion in his mind except that he wanted
fresh air; but, somehow, his steps led him to the neighborhood of
Bohlmier's hotel.

"Being here," said he, "I may as well go in and visit the halt and the
lame. I wonder how much damage I did those two parties. Maybe I'll find
them in their beds."

He entered the office. Behind the desk was the thick-necked young man
with the low, stand-up collar.

"Hello," saluted Scanlon. "Where's the boss?"

"Not feeling right," replied the thick-necked one. "Got a cold, I guess.
Settled in his throat."

Bat turned away with a grin hidden behind one hand. In the lounging room
of the place he looked about for Big Slim; not seeing him, he ascended
the stairs and knocked upon a door on the third floor.

"Come in," said the voice of the lank burglar.

Bat pushed open the door, and found the man standing in the middle of
the floor, pulling on his coat.

"Just run up to see if I couldn't drag you off to get some eats," said
Bat, cordially.

"I'm hungry," said the burglar, "but I don't know if I can work my face
or not." He displayed a swollen region extending from his left eye to
the angle of his jaw; besides being puffed and painful looking, it was
badly discolored. "Get that? Some bump, eh?"

"I should say, yes,"