next, an express car looted, and several other little pleasant episodes all jammed one on top of the other, means hell to pay out here and nothing to pay it with, unless we can do something almighty quick!"
"Any more of those messages?" inquired MacVightie—there was an ominous abstraction in his tones.
"Yes—to-night."
"Make anything of it?"
"No," said Lanson; "and I think it's about time to put a kink in that little business, whether they mean anything or not. This cat-and-mouse game we've been playing isn't——"
"We'll get back to that in a minute," interrupted MacVightie quietly. "Here's a little something else that may possibly fit into the combination." He reached Into his pocket, took out his pocketbook, opened it, and handed the division superintendent a crisp new ten-dollar note.
The Hawk's lips thinned instantly, and he swore sharply under his breath.
"What's this?" asked Lanson, in surprise.
"Phony!" said MacVightie laconically.
"Counterfeit!" Lanson turned the note over in his hands, staring at first one side and then the other. "Are you sure? I'd take it any time."
"You'd have lots of company with you"—there was a sudden rasp in the detective's voice. "Pretty good one, isn't it? The East is being flooded with them. Two of them showed up in the banks here in the city yesterday, and one to-day."
