CHAPTER IV.
UNDER THE SHADOWS OF THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE.
When the "Fuerst Bismarck" moved grandly away from her wharf and glided down the stream, Jack Witherspoon paced the deck with clouded brows.

The acute Detroit lawyer had rightly estimated the crushing effect of his disclosure of Hugh Worthington's treachery.
The two college mates were now banded together, however, by a secret compact, and both of them realized the craft of the foe whom they were fighting.

"Not a letter, not a cable, not a single scrap of paper," said the wary Jack.

"And you must keep away from me and be sure to dissemble all your wrath." Clayton appreciated the prudence which had separated them in the last three days of his friend's stay, and minutely followed Witherspoon's final descriptions of the hidden plans of the great syndicate.

"You must be ever on your guard," said the new champion, "and remember the annual election and this strange wedding must be allowed to take place without suspicion.
"On my return I shall frankly mingle with the 'upper ten' of the Trust.