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

"Guy Garrick"

Herman, it seems, got back from some wild-goose chase
over in New Jersey and saw the report in the records filed at
police headquarters and telephoned him."
"Herman is one of the brightest detectives I ever met," I
commented in disgust. "He always manages to get in just after
everybody else. Has he any more news?"
"About the car?" asked Garrick absently. "Nothing except that he
ran down the Pennsylvania report and found there was nothing in
it. Now he says that he thinks the car may have returned to New
York, perhaps by way of Staten Island, for he doubts whether it
could have slipped in by New Jersey."
"Clever," I ejaculated. "I suppose that occurred to him as soon as
he read about the fire. I have to hand it to him for being a
deducer."
Garrick smiled.
"There's one thing, though, he does know," he added, "and that is
the gossip of the underworld right here in New York."
"I should hope so," I replied. "That was his business to know.
Why, has he found out anything really new?"
"Why--er--yes.


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