card over
the bell bore his name, and Arthur lit a match and read it. Then he rang
impatiently.

Only silence.

Arthur rang a second time; waited, and rang again. A panic of fear took
possession of him. At this hour of night it would be well-nigh
impossible to hunt up another detective if Fogerty failed him. He
determined to persist as long as there was hope. Again he rang.

"Look above, sir," called Jones from his station in the car.

Arthur stepped back on the stone landing and looked up. A round spark,
as from a cigarette, was visible at the open window. While he gazed the
spark glowered brighter and illumined a pale, haggard boy's face,
surmounted by tousled locks of brick colored hair.

"Hi, there!" said Arthur. "Does Mr. Fogerty live here?"

"He pays the rent," answered a boyish voice, with a tinge of irony.
"What's wanted?" "Mr. Fogerty is wanted. Is he at home?"

"He is," responded the boy.

"I must see him at once--on important business. Wake him up, my lad;
will you?"

"Wait a minute," said the youth, and left the window. Presently he
opened the front door, slipped gently out and closed the door behind
him.

"Let's sit in your car," he said, in soft, quiet tones. "We can talk
more freely there."

"But I must see Fogerty at once!" protested Arthur.

"I'm Fogerty."

"Q. Fogerty?"

"Quintus Fogerty--the first and last and only individual of that name."

Arthur hesitated; he was terribly disappointed.

"Are you a detective?" he enquired.

"By profession."

"But you can't be very old."

The boy laughed.

"I'm no antiquity, sir," said he, "but I've shed the knickerbockers
long ago. Who sent you to me?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm tired. I've been busy twenty-three weeks. Just finished my case
yesterday and need a rest--a good long rest. But if you want a man I'll
refer you to a friend."

"Gorman, of the Waldorf, sent me to you--and said you'd help me."

"Oh; that's different. Case urgent, sir?"

"Very. The young lady I'm engaged to marry was abducted less than three
hours ago."

Fogerty lighted another cigarette and the match showed Arthur that the
young face was deeply lined, while two cold gray eyes stared blankly
into his own.

"Let's sit in your limousine, sir," he repeated.

When they had taken their places behind the closed doors the boy asked
Arthur to tell him "all about it, and don't forget any details, please."
So Weldon hastily told the events of the evening and gave