ons' description as he left Chicago last evening. He
expects to arrive on the Western express to-night. He's looking for
someone to meet him and take him to the headquarters of the Hennion
gang."

Garth's face lightened.

"Has he a record?"

"A suspect, chiefly because he's tied up with that anarchist crowd out
there--an analyst of explosives, a chemist, cursed by this hideous
accident--dangerous as giant powder itself! That's why his mail's been
watched, how they got onto this move. But they've no details for us.
Maybe Simmons himself doesn't know what he's up against."

With a secretive air he opened a drawer and lifted out a tightly-woven
gray cloth. It was pierced by two holes above and a long, narrow opening
below. From its edges four elastic straps dangled.

"I had it made," he said, holding it out tentatively, "so that, perhaps,
you might find out instead of Simmons."

Garth took the cloth and fitted it over his face. It left visible a
small scar on his neck. The inspector pointed at this with a pleased,
wondering smile.

"That scar peeping will fetch them. Put on a brown suit and you'll
pass."

"Where," Garth asked, "does Simmons change cars?"

"I'll have the express stopped at the end of the bridge above Garrison.
Not much chance of spies there. A couple of my men will take him off and
keep him out of mischief while you get on. Understand? You'll go up on
the West Shore and ferry over from West Point. You're on?"

"Sure. You'd jump at the chance yourself, sir."

He removed the mask. The inspector handed him a piece of frayed white
paper.

"Did you notice me fingering this just now?" he asked anxiously.

Garth shook his head.

"Then take it, and, when the time comes, play with it that way yourself.
Scratch your instructions on it with a match, a toothpick, anything
handy. It will stay white, but I can make whatever you put on it as
visible as headlines in a war extra. You'll reach town after ten. I'll
hold back instructions until eleven in case these fellows have any spies
in the department. But after that you can drop it near a uniformed
policeman with a fair chance of its reaching me."

"You'll try to trail us, too?" Garth asked.

The inspector grinned sheepishly.

"Of course I'll try. I'll probably have to let it go at that."

"Yes--slippery," Garth answered.

Now that his offer was accepted, and his plan understood, the inspector
gave way to a disquieting nervousness. He stood up and