e was
to roll up in three rolls $254,000 in United States bonds and send the
trunk containing them by express to Major George Mathews, New York. He
wrapped them in a nightshirt belonging to me, which in some way had got
into his baggage. Then he bought a ticket to Paris and sent his baggage
over, waiting in London a day or two longer before going himself.

George determined to go to Ireland, and to Ireland he went, and I shall
let him in a later chapter tell in his own language the stirring events
in Ireland and Scotland that finally ended in his arrest in Edinburgh
some weeks later. Mac, before sending his baggage away, had intended to
sail from Liverpool by the Java of the Cunard line, and he cabled Irving
at Police Headquarters to meet him on the arrival of the steamer. Mac
went to Paris, stopping at the Hotel Richmond, Rue du Helder, under his
right name, never for a moment thinking he could possibly come under
suspicion.

In the mean time the Pinkerton men continued their house-to-house
visitation of the fashionable lodging houses to hunt out Mac. This, in
huge London, was a Titanic task, but they exhibited a marvelous activity
in tracing out clues. In a lucky moment for the Pinkertons, a
subordinate inquiring at every number in St. James' place if an
American gentleman was lodging or had lodged there was informed by one
landlady that Mac had been a lodger, but had left a few days before. As
soon as this important report arrived they flew to St. James' place and
found the landlady a warm friend of the man they were looking for. The
detectives were forced to tell her their business. She was indignant
that any one should so wrong Mac, and ordered them out of the house.

They brought the bank solicitors and other important people to see her
before she would consent to be questioned; when she did, her information
was important indeed. She had seen very little of George, but much of
me, though she had never heard my name, but still the detectives knew
from her description that the man she described was the F. A. Warren
they wanted, and whom to get meant fame and comparative fortune for
them.

The rooms had been unoccupied since Mac left and a careful search was
made for clues, but nothing was found until she was asked for the
waste-paper basket. The basket proved to be a bag, and when turned out
some pieces of blotting paper appeared, which, held in front of a
mirror, of course would reflect the writing the same as