the murderer waited in the vestibule of that electro-plating shop, it will be soon, indeed, that we can give Crowley a better—or rather a worse—man to send to trial in Kanlan's place."
Again Trant was conscious that the giant inspector was estimating not the incomprehensible statement he had made, but Trant himself. And again Walker seemed satisfied.
"When can I go with you to Harrison Street to prove this, inspector?"
"I shall see Miss Allison home, and meet you at Harrison Street in an hour."
"You will let me know the result of the test at once, Mr. Trant?"
"At once, Miss Allison." Trant took his hat and dashed from the station.
Harrison Street police station, Chicago, is headquarters of the first police division in the third city of the world. But neither London nor New York, the two larger cities, nor Paris, whose population of two million and a half Chicago is now passing, possesses a police division more complex, diverse, and puzzling in the cosmopolitan diversity of the persons arrested than this first of Chicago.
But from all the dozen diversities brought to the Harrison Street station daily, for two weeks none had challenged in interest the case against Jake Kanlan, the racing man and gambler, rearrested and held for the murder of Bronson. Trant appreciated this as, with his galvanometer and batteries in a suit case, he pushed his way among patrolmen, detectives, reporters,
