e West, Bub, on the trail of O'Hagan. The plant the old one is
growing hasn't put its head above ground yet, and the roots are in the
West. Out in Utah they're teaching all kinds of Polacks to shoot rifles.
Why? O'Hagan is travelling from one mine to another as a common laborer.
Why? While here in little New York, the old one is sitting for his
portrait and getting a perfectly innocent young girl talked about. No
use to watch the old one till later."

"But," said Bubbles, "suppose some one was to find a secret passage
leading from the East River to--to--"

"To where?"

"He doesn't know where. He wanted to get Harry to go with him to find
out."

"Where does the passage begin, Bubbles?"

"Under Pier 31 A."

[Illustration: "'Dafternoon, Mr. Lichtenstein," said Bubbles]

"Come over here, Bub," said Mr. Lichtenstein and led the way to a
mahogany table covered with green baize. Upon this he spread a
folding-map of New York City that he took from his inside pocket. With
the rapidity of thought his stubby forefinger found Pier 31A and passed
from it to the crook in Marrow Lane. And he said:

"Hum! The bee-line of it leads straight to Blizzard's place. There are
two things to find out, Bub. Is the passage straight? And how long is
it? A light in the entrance to sight by will answer question No. 1, and
a ball of twine to be unwound at leisure will answer No. 2."

"You'd ought to have a compass," Bubbles suggested, "to know just how
she runs."

"True," said Mr. Lichtenstein. "Happy thought. And you could borrow one
mounted in tiger's eye from a friend."

He laughed, took the little compass in question from its watch chain,
and gave it to Bubbles. Then, his voice losing its bantering tone and
taking on a kind of faltering sincerity, he asked:

"Do you want to play this hand, Bubbles, or do you want me to delegate
some one else?"

"It's my graft," said Bubbles, "I'd like to see it through."

Mr. Lichtenstein looked upon the boy with a certain pride and
tenderness. "I'd like to go with you," he said, "but I can't run _any_
risks. There's the strings of too many things in my head. In every
battle there has to be a general who sits on a hill out of danger and
orders other people to do brave things. Remember that you've worked for
us ever since Harry came in and said, laughing, 'Governor, I've made
friends with a bright baby that knows how to keep his mouth shut,'
You've only to step up to Blizzard and say, 'Abe Lichte