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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"Guy Garrick"


"I wonder who this fellow is that they call the Chief?" I ventured
at last.
"I can't say--yet," admitted Garrick. "But he's the cleverest I
have ever met. His pace is rapid, but I think we are getting up
with it, at last. There's no use sticking around here any longer,
though. The place for us, I think, is downtown, getting an earful
at the other end of that detectaphone."
The engines and other apparatus were rolling away from the fire
when we regained the street and things were settling themselves
down to normal again.
We rode downtown on the subway, and I was surprised when Garrick,
instead of going all the way down to the crosstown line that would
take us to the Old Tavern, got off at Forty-second Street.
"What's the idea of this?" I asked.
"Do you think I'm going to travel around the city with that letter
in my pocket?" he asked. "Not much, since they seem to set such a
value on getting it back. Of course, they don't know that I have
it. But they might suspect it.


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