If Webb doesn't pan out, why, we can discharge him.

I'll take a chance at a man who isn't afraid to look you squarely in the eyes." At the precise time when Kitty retired and Thomas went aft for his good night pipe--eleven o'clock at sea and nine in New York--Haggerty found himself staring across the street at an old-fashioned house.

Like the fisherman who always returns to the spot where he lost the big one, the detective felt himself drawn toward this particular dwelling.

Crawford did not live there any more; since his marriage he had converted it into a private museum.

It was filled with mummies and cartonnages, ancient pottery and trinkets.
What a game it had been! A hundred thousand in precious gems, all neatly packed away in the heels of Crawford's old shoes! And where was that man Mason?
Would he ever return?
Oh, well; he, Haggerty, had got his seven thousand in rewards; he was living now like a nabob up in the Bronx.