“Perhaps. But it would be necessary to exercise the greatest care, Jimmie.” Tom was very much in earnest. “We must catch this entire gang with the goods on them. We simply must. We——”
He broke off short for at that moment his phone jangled loudly.
Jimmie heard him say in a casual tone, “Yes?” Then, excitedly, “That right? Again! Subway to the Washington Street station? I’ll be right down.”
“It’s the Silent Terror!” he exclaimed as he dropped the receiver. “He’s struck again. In broad day-light, not five blocks from here.” He reached for his coat.
“May I go with you?” Jimmie’s voice rose.
Jimmie dropped a small clothes brush into his pocket.
A moment more and they were on their way. At the outer door Jimmie seized a newspaper and threw a nickel at the boy as he ran.
They arrived at the subway quite out of breath. A row of blue-coats kept the crowd back, but Tom Howe and Jimmie passed at once. The subway had been cleared. Three policemen stood over a small, gray-haired man who apparently was struggling to regain consciousness.
“The—the pay—pay—roll,” he murmured thickly. “Is—is it gone?”
“That’s all right,” one of the officers reassured him. “Tell us what happened.”
“I—I was taking the pay-roll from the bank when some—something happened. I—I saw a hand. I heard a voice, and—and then I must have had some sort of sinking spell.”
“Same old story,” Tom said in a low tone to Jimmie.
“Tom,” Jimmie gripped his arm, “will they mind if I sort of brush around the floor?”
“Who? They?” Tom nodded at the officers. “No, I guess not. But why——”
“Don’t ask me. I’ll explain later.” Dropping on hands and knees the boy began brushing the floor in a wide circle. He used Tom’s clothes brush. When at last his circle had narrowed to a spot the size of a man’s hat he placed a single square of newspaper on the polished floor of the subway and appeared to brush an invisible something onto the paper. Truth was, his arduous brushing appeared to have caught only three insignificant bits of paper, one of them a fragment of a chewing gum wrapper.
“There,” he sighed, as, having folded the bit of newspaper neatly, then wrapped it in another square, he thrust it into his pocket.
Tom was too busy asking questions, examining the victim’s clothing and looking for possible clues to pay any attention to his actions.