hout having a
private telephone.

"Have to get a line on that girl!" Farland told himself. "She's got
something to do with this. I'll bet my reputation on it."

Jim Farland went to the smoking room and sat down in a corner. He tried
to think it out, groped for a starting point. He considered all the
persons connected with the case, one at a time.

Farland knew that Sidney Prale had told the truth. Why, then, had George
Lerton told a falsehood about meeting Prale and talking to him, when the
truth would have helped to establish an alibi? Why had the clothing
merchant and the barber lied?

"I suppose I'll have to use stern methods," Farland told himself. "Old
police stuff, I suppose. Well, I'm the man that can do it, take it from
me!"

He went up to Prale's suite again.

"Can't find out anything about that woman," he reported. "And I want to
get in touch with her. Keep your eyes peeled for her, Sid, and arrange
for me to catch sight of her, if you can. Now you'd better take a little
rest. You've been through an experience to-day. I'm going out to get
busy, and I'm going to take Murk with me."

"What for?" Murk demanded.

"You're going to help me, old boy."

"Me work with a cop?" Murk exclaimed.

"To help Mr. Prale."

"Well, that's different," Murk said. "Wait until I get my hat."

CHAPTER X

ON THE TRAIL

Farland engaged a taxicab, bade Murk get into it, got in himself, and
they started downtown. The detective leaned back against the cushions
and regarded Murk closely. He knew that Sidney Prale had guessed
correctly, that Murk was the sort of man who would prove loyal to a
friend.

"This is a bad business," Farland said.

"It's tough," said Murk.

"If it was anybody but Sid Prale, I'd say he was guilty. It sure looks
bad. And there is that fountain pen!"

"Somebody's tryin' to do him dirt," Murk said.

"There's no question about that, Murk, old boy. Well, we are going to
get him out of it, aren't we?"

"I'll do anything I can."

"Like him, do you?"

"Met him less than twenty-four hours ago, but I wish I'd met him or
somebody like him ten years ago," Murk replied. "If it hadn't been for
Mr. Prale, I'd be a stiff up in the morgue this minute."

"Strong for him, are you?"

"Yes, sir, I am!"

"Um!" said Jim Farland. "We're going to get along fine together. I was
strong for Sid Prale ten years ago, before he went away. And I'll bet
that, when we get to the bottom of this, we'll find