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THE HAND OF PERIL
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Wilsnach, dropping from his overdriven taxi-cab ten minutes later, beheld a dejectedly shabby figure in a soiled felt hat and a rusty brown suit staring absently out over the East River, grey with the light of the late afternoon.

Twice Wilsnach was compelled to accost this figure before eliciting any response.

"Wilsnach, there's a counterfeiter named Carlesi locked in down there," Kestner finally explained. "You'd better place him under arrest, for after to-night I'm quitting the service!"

"You mean you've got Lambert?" gasped Wilsnach.

"No," was Kestner's quiet response. "I said after to-night. And I'm going to get him before morning!"